


Warning: Cross The Line, You’re Mine

by d6dreams



Category: Day6 (Band)
Genre: F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff and Angst, This is an AU, contemporary romance au where everyone is attached to a wedding planner service, inspired by the I Smile MV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-24
Updated: 2018-07-17
Packaged: 2019-06-11 20:37:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 26,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15323817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/d6dreams/pseuds/d6dreams
Summary: Sungjin hasn’t seen Nayeon since they broke up six months ago, about the same time Haru told Jaebum she loves him but he didn’t love her back. Now, Jaebum and Nayeon are together and inescapable when their universes collide at a get-together neither Sungjin nor Haru can avoid. The solution? Pair the spares. It’s just for one night after all. Despite their differences, Sungjin and Haru can fake being in love for one night. But when the moonlight takes them to unexpected places, hard truths, and startling revelations, it’s easy blurring the line between real and make believe. Inevitably, the morning comes and Sungjin and Haru must decide. They faked the night, can they make the morning real?





	1. it's been a while, I didn't think you'd be the first to call

**Author's Note:**

> Formerly One Night Only. What you need to know is I hate that title. It was that only because I had to title the thing as I was posting it. So now we have his new title. Which is only marginally better. Eventually I will figure this out. Enjoy.

The sun sets with Sungjin reaching out for his guitar and slinging the strap over his shoulder. He watches the rest of his band set up alongside him— watches the neon pink sun dip into the horizon of rooftops. As the rough edges of the city soften in the moments the sunset blends into the summer night, the roof deck seems to transform where the light is warped by the endless string of fairy lights giving the floor and the stage a warm honey glow. With the reassuring weight of his guitar against him, he breathes in the few seconds of silence before the sound. Then he sees her and falls apart.

Sungjin has read somewhere that you can only hold a smile for so long. After that, it’s just teeth. But not until this moment, standing on the wooden platform and holding onto his white Gibson Les Paul like a lifeline, has he given the phrase any thought. The fact that he remembers at all gives him pause. As far as he can tell, he has had no discernible reason to keep such words bookmarked, yet here they are in striking clarity. As if the universe has known all along that one day these words will return to mock him. He’s just another punchline in the joke called Life.

Begrudgingly, he concedes.

Universe: 1

Park Sungjin: 0

Of all habits, Nayeon has to be the hardest to break. He sees her even in his stageblindness, finds her lithe form in the crowd, sees that she’s not alone, sees her arm curled around someone else’s elbow. Of course, she’s moved on. It’s been so long, half a year and counting it’s only right. But the look on her face is a mixture of guilt and shock. Neither of them should even be so surprised, Nayeon less so. She called him the weekend before to, in her words, check in on him. _It’s been a while_ , she said, _I’ll see you at the party. You guys are playing, right? Let’s catch up?_

How could he possibly say no to that?

Even if he wanted to, he can’t. It’s Sunye’s wedding rehearsal dinner party and they’re all invited. All of them in their extended group of friends and secondhand friends, a mix of university and work seniors and juniors. Everyone will be there. People he hasn’t seen in years will be there. And Sungjin wants to go. Even if Sunye hadn’t asked him to bring his band along to play for the night, he still would have. Why prolong the inevitable? Eventually he’ll have to come face to face with Nayeon anyway.

To anyone peripherally aware, the breakup came amicably. Ask anyone in their extended circle of friends and they would say Sungjin and Nayeon, the no-fuss no-drama childhood sweethearts, have simply fallen out of love. They’ve simply gone from friends, to lovers, and friends again. Life caught up with them and they’ve become different people, but no love is lost between them. Impossible, you say? Exes can’t be friends. Not for Sungjin and Nayeon. _If anyone can make it work, it would be those two_ , they said. At the time, it had been true. But even the truth has two sides, and Sungjin is still picking up the pieces of his broken heart, still unlearning habits he’s developed through the years, experiencing everything for the first time all over again, battling the loneliness that goes with being alone. But his heart is no longer Nayeon’s concern, so even though he’s bleeding heartache onstage, Sungjin takes a moment and breathes.

He slides a foot back, shifts his weight forward so he’s crouching into the mic, and paints a serene smile on his face.

Dowoon bangs his drumsticks together and it’s all Sungjin needs to pay attention to. His hands know their way around the body of his guitar and the familiar thrum of steel fills him. There is only the music— the metallic shredding of Jae’s Stratocaster, the deep pulsing of Brian’s bass, the hypnotic trance of Wonpil’s synths, and the crashing of Dowoon’s drums. Sungjin is in every part of this moment. He is both the crest and trough of this soundwave, both the rhythm and the release. Singer and song. His raspy voice pours out yearning and longing as his fingers press hard into the chords. No more thinking, only feeling. All five of them, individual sounds perfectly aligned to time. On nights like these, when they are playing for friends, they can completely let loose.

This is when they are at their best, when they’re free to be themselves in the intimacy of a raving moshpit. Brian is always the first to let go. Sungjin thinks Brian always forgets he’s a bassist, plays instead like a lead guitarist. Though to be fair, until Jae arrived Brian had been on lead guitar _and_ center. Jae doubles as a hype-man, takes his role seriously, it’s a term Sungjin doesn’t understand ( _Bro, when are you getting to this decade?_ Jae asks) but is grateful for. But Jae’s only good for one task at a time, and when he’s focused on his lyrics or a riff, that’s all Jae knows to do. But that’s all Sungjin expects him to do. Wonpil is in a little world of his own within the confines of his double-layer synthesizers, MIDI controllers, and laptop.

They’re at the third minute of this song and Brian takes the chorus a step higher than they practice, sings like there’s something inside him that’s clamoring to get out. Jae has closed in on himself, he’s facing Dowoon now, Strat to his knees and his fingers making mad love to the strings. Wonpil finds a space for a synth solo, takes it and does not apologize for it. Dowoon is the only one Sungjin can count on to keep his cool. Dowoon is the clockwork. The only one of them too focused on keeping time, the solid backbone to which they build notes and sequences upon.

Sungjin tries to keep up, tries to ignore the fragments of Nayeon embedded in every word and sequence he’s contributed to their songs. The turns of phrase may distort the memory of when she was his, but the words flood his senses, the music leaves him defenseless and singing the words out loud now, Sungjin searches his mind for answers, for some kind of sign that teaches him how to forget, how to let go of the memories from when they were together.

What Sungjin learns about letting go is this: if he keeps the memories in his periphery while he walks away, it’s at that moment when the hurt is all but a tiny speck in the horizon does it come back to wrap its arms around him and pull him under.

Sungjin is drowning, and he can’t see the light above the water to lead him home.

Fortunately, there’s Brian and Dowoon who guide the careening to a controlled collapse. The crowd sends them a burst of applause and cheers for more, but the set is over for the night and there is obligatory mingling to be done. Sungjin reluctantly sets his guitar back to its stand, wordlessly directs a cleanup, and mentally cues his bandmates to move faster— talk less, pack up more— before they lose each other in the party.

Sungjin glances at the crowd— everyone else is laughing and talking and eating and drinking— spots both familiar and strange faces. Then his eyes, still used to searching for Nayeon, find her. Just Nayeon. Alone, for the moment. She smiles at him, and knowing that this will be one of the the rare times they will see her in this way, Sungjin smiles back. He can tell, just by the look on her face, that she’s about to come over and say hello. All at once he feels a sense of limbo. It’s not as if he wants to get back together with her. He’s accepted the fact that they are over. But she’s moved on and he’s still a work in progress. That thought stabs him.

So Sungjin, steadfast leader of the band, steps back in line with Jae and keeps his eyes pointedly away from Nayeon. As he packs his guitar into its case, he surveys the deck again, identifying as many people as he can, to find a pocket he can safely station himself in. When they come together like this, it’s always chaos masquerading as order. Jackson is at the center of one thing, Bambam at the center of another. The girls have closed off one side of the roof just for presents and are fawning of the bride-to-be. Next to the fire escape, Wooyoung is flanked by Minjun and Ayeon, and Sungjin decides that’s where he wants to park himself for the duration of the evening.

Someone is suddenly screaming their arrival— unsurprisingly, Jimin— who’s just arrived with someone hidden behind a big white box. Probably cake, it’s almost always a cake in these fancy white boxes. Sungjin notices, of all things, the peach head of hair peeking from above the edge of the box and the distressed denims and scuffed boots beneath. Jaebum ambles over, helps put the box down, and the reveal offers a view of a flushed face and a playful smirk. Sungjin can’t tell if he’s met her before, if he’s supposed to recognize her face from somewhere, or if he’s completely out of it that he can’t remember if they have not been previously introduced.

Jae elbows Sungjin. Nayeon has crossed the room and is about four steps away from them.

Desperate, Sungjin mutters below his breath, “Try not to humiliate me this time. I’d like to get out of this with my sense of pride intact.”

Jae blinks in mock offense. “Bro, when have I ever done that?”

Sungjin doesn’t answer that, consciously wipes the sweat off his brow with the back of his hand instead, because Nayeon is directly in front of him. The last time they were face to face like this, Nayeon was breaking up with him. _It’s been a long time coming_ , she said. _I know that you know we’re not as happy as we used to be anymore._ Sungjin would have worked harder had she asked. But there was nothing more Sungjin could do, and holding on to her would only suffocate her so he let her go. She’d gone with the winter, and even now all Sungjin feels is the permafrost beneath his skin.

“Long time no see,” she says, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Her eyes dart over his head, at Dowoon and Wonpil dismantling their instruments and at Brian hauling his guitar case over his shoulder.

 _Well what do you expect?_ Sungjin thinks. Out loud, he says, “It’s good to see you. It’s been a while. How are you?”

“I’m good. You?”

Sungjin can feel Jae rolling his eyes at them. “Same. The usual.”

“You guys sound good. I like your new songs.”

“Thanks.” This is probably the best time to ask about the guy she’s with, but how does an ex-boyfriend approach the subject of his replacement?

Brian will say: _you don’t_. And Brian will be right. But Brian isn’t here now, is he? No, Brian is downstairs packing up the amps in their van. Thus, Brian’s wisdom does not apply if he’s not here to personally see it executed.

“So how come you never told us you’re going out with JB now? When did _that_ happen?”

 _Way to keep it cool, Jae._ Sungjin wonders now what the universe has against him, regrets now what he had just been thinking about Brian. Why couldn’t he have been stuck with Brian? Even Wonpil or Dowoon is a better alternative to this.

Nayeon hesitates. “It’s a...fairly new development.”

“Like how new?” Jae has no filter, and it is both an asset and a liability.

“Like a couple of weeks new.” Even if she wanted to, Nayeon can’t hide the smile blooming on her face. Sungjin loved that about her. _Loved_. In the past tense now. Just like every memory he has of her. Her eyes flit up, and a split second of worry flashes on her face.

Sungjin musters the energy to keep the smile on his face natural-looking. “That’s good. I’m happy to hear that. Good for you.”

He means it, he thinks. He means it enough to say it and not be lying.

“That is awesome.” Jae punctuates his statement with a hand landing in a thump on Sungjin’s shoulder. “That is awesome because how awkward would it be, right? If, like, you were still single after all this time. That would be pathetic.”

Nayeon nods, her bunny teeth coming out to gnaw at her bottom lip.

“Because Sungjin here.” Jae tightens his grip on Sungjin’s shoulder, gives it a good shake. “Sungjin, too, is dating someone. Have you not heard the news?”

Nayeon’s gaze flits between them. “You are?” she gasps, sounding relieved. Surprised, but at the same time absolved of her perceived transgression.

“I am.” It comes out sounding like a question from Sungjin’s mouth. Suffice it to say, he hasn’t gone on a date since the breakup, hasn’t even given it thought.

“You are,” Jae reiterates. “That’s what you’re doing. Don’t be shy now. It’s okay. Isn’t that right, Nayeon?”

“Of course. I’m _glad_ you’re seeing someone.”

Every word in that sentence strikes Sungjin like an arrow. “Thanks,” he says through gritted teeth.

“You should have brought her with you,” Nayeon says, “I’d love to meet her.”

Sungjin clears his throat. “Yeah, no. She’s, that’s...Tonight is just not—”

“As luck would have it,” Jae interjects, “she’s here. Actually. Just arrived, like, two minutes ago. _Ish_.”

Sungjin is almost calm. At least he was until a vein pops somewhere on his nape. He relieves the tension by rolling his shoulders, but no amount of  acting casual can make it look like he’s not trying too hard to look casual. There’s a part of him that really wants to walk away, grab a chair leg, and bash Jae’s head in, but he doesn’t _know_ a lot of people and no one plays guitar like Jae plays guitar. Not even Brian. Briefly, he entertains the idea that maybe this band thing isn’t really for him but the devil on his shoulder— not Jae— scoffs he’s even opened that can of worms.

Jae’s opened something completely different. Sungjin’s own personal Pandora’s Box. Instead of hope being left behind as all the evils of the world escape, all that’s left for him is resignation.

“She is?” Nayeon pushes herself up on tiptoes and scans the party. “Do I know her? Where is she?”

“Not that I’m aware of,” Jae answers. His beady eyes go around the room like a radar, focuses finally on his target and raises his hand for a wave then points frantically at someone. “Found her.”

Sungjin follows Jae’s line of sight. Jimin waves back at Jae and points at Sungjin, and maybe Sungjin is imagining it but Jimin is mirroring the same diabolical expression on her face as his lead guitarist and that never bodes well for anyone within a hundred-meter radius. Especially not for him.

“Jimin?” Nayeon asks, confused.

“No,” Jae says in half a laugh. “No. The girl next to her. That’s her. That’s Sungjin’s girl.”

Sungjin shifts his gaze to Jimin’s side, at the peach-haired girl who meets his eyes from across the room. Awkwardly, she raises a hand and greets him. Sungjin returns the gesture, equally stiff.

Jae pushes him forward and Sungjin stumbles to a walk. “Go forth, my son. Retrieve your lady love.”

And now Sungjin has nowhere to go but forward because Jae _pushed_ him, both physically and figuratively, and now he has to keep up with this ridiculous charade he wants no part of because Nayeon is watching, and from across the room Jimin and Jaebum are watching. Suddenly it feels like _everyone_ is watching. So Sungjin comes up to this girl he doesn’t know, doesn’t notice he meets her halfway until they’re face to face and she says:

“I’m going to kiss you. Right now. Just go with it.”


	2. it's half excitement, half fear

Haru acknowledges three things as she makes her way across the room to kiss a guy whose name she doesn’t even know:

  1. Jimin is a bad influence.
  2. She needs new friends.
  3. This is a bad idea.



But even a Summer Night of Questionable Life Choices fueled by petty rage and self-preservation begin normally. For Haru, it began three months ago when her sometimes employer, respected senior, and _friend_ Sunye hired her to design her wedding cake. Haru had just returned from training with the best patissiers in New York and, eager to please Sunye and her soon-to-be permanent boss Celebrity Baker Nichkhun Horvejkul, Haru said yes before it dawned on her what strings were attached to this request.

“It’ll be fine,” Jimin reassured her. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

At the time it seemed like a reasonable enough argument. Indeed, what _was_ The Worst that could happen? The zombie apocalypse? World War III? A meteor crashing down on the Earth? The statistical probability of these cosmic events occurring were unlikely, and yet they were still better options compared to the reality Haru was hoping to avoid.

But above all, Haru is a professional. She wasn’t about to let her personal feelings get in the way of an opportunity of a lifetime. What was a little heartbreak compared to the Wedding of the Season? Besides, if she planned all her movements carefully, she might not have to face the unfaceable and she’d get out of this situation with a semblance of calm and her sanity intact.

It’s just another wedding. Granted, it’s Sunye’s wedding, but Haru’s worked dozens of weddings for Sunye before. Working on Sunye’s own wedding shouldn’t be any different. Aside from the fact that the stress levels are over nine thousand and the pressure to do extremely well has her in a chokehold, this shouldn’t be any different. Only the love in her heart kept her from screaming out NO.

But that didn’t meant she wasn’t freaking out. Two weeks later she sat with Jimin and Ayeon over late night cake and coffee in an effort to keep herself from backing out. Or blacking out. Ayeon, ever the level-headed friend, made her list down the Pros and Cons on a sheet of paper.

Pros:

  * Sunye will love her forever and ever
  * It is both an honor and a privilege to design and bake the cake of one of the best wedding planners in the country
  * A chance to impress Nichkhun and gain his favor
  * The abovementioned is a Good Career Move
  * It’s a chance to Move On. And prove that she’s _moved on_.



Con:

  * JB will be there



And it’s that singular con that has her curling up in a corner of her kitchen, rocking back and forth, and muttering incoherences into the tiled floor. The short version is, after years of friendship, late night drunken conversations, repeated shared rejections and failures, and finally successes, Haru finally confessed to her best friend of so many years that she was in love with him.

She remembered that night like a dream she can’t place. Remembered the night because she just might regret that night for the rest of her life. It wasn’t even the movie magic moment she had imagined in endless daydreams and fantasies throughout her early adulthood. It had been two in the morning and Jaebum was going off about something that happened at work, and Haru’s ears were still burning from getting yelled at all day. Everything was crashing down all at once, and the words just escaped her lips, unpracticed and without prior thought. Three words. And all she got in return was silence. She knew then, the way you just knew things, what the answer to her confession was.

Jaebum didn’t love her back.

Naturally, the next best thing to do was apply for all the foreign internships she could get her hands on, choose the farthest option available to her, and start all over again. Three months later, she’s back home with an arsenal of contacts and skills and still nursing the aftereffects of The Worst Heartbreak of Contemporary Times.

Fast forward and flash back to fifteen minutes ago and The Worst is playing out in high definition and surround sound.

Of course Haru is late.

It’s one thing that she actually doesn’t want to go but has to, and another that her best efforts have seemingly been smiled upon and approved by the Higher Powers That Be what with a burnt cake she had to bake again, cupcakes that don’t taste anything like love, uncooperative vanilla frosting, and a traffic jam. Then there’s Jimin calling her every twenty minutes asking where she is and _ooh does she have news for her._ But she made it with her cake in one piece and her cupcakes safe and sound.

If only she could say the same about her insides the moment Jaebum came to help her.

“Why didn’t you call me?” he said, taking the box from her arms and setting it down the refreshments table.

“Why would she do that?” Thank the universe for friends like Jimin.

“Because I have a car and I could’ve picked her up.”

The worst part about seeing Jaebum again after six months isn’t that she’s suffering a semi-permanent anxiety attack— pounding heart, sweaty palms, on the verge of tears, and her stomach in impossible knots— it’s that Jaebum is acting like nothing ever happened between them. That Haru’s _I love you_ meant about as much as _Oh hey, the sky is blue_.

“And, I don’t know,” Jaebum continues, “Why didn’t you tell me you were back? Since when were you back?”

Haru doesn’t answer that, instead unpacks her box of goodies, arranges them on the table, makes a mental note to take a photo of her finished product. If she focuses on Jaebum, on the sharp lines of his nose and his lips, and his eyes hyper-focused on her, she doesn’t trust herself not to say anything she’ll regret. Again.

Jimin grabs a cupcake from the box, peels off the pearl burgundy liner, pinches off a piece of the soft coffee cake and pops it into her mouth. “Well, if you weren’t so lovey-dovey with your new girlfriend you’d have thought to ask.”

 _Yes. Thank you Jimin._ But also: _JB has a girlfriend?_

“Look, nothing’s changed?” Jaebum is talking to Haru now. “Just like before. Just because I’m dating someone doesn’t mean I’m any less of your best friend.”

Haru isn’t listening. She’s looking around the roofdeck thinking Jeongyeon and Jisoo outdid themselves with the party planning and design, wondering how much work they made Taecyeon and Chansung do to get this empty space looking like a wonderland. Despite Jaebum, this feels like home. _Wonderful_ , Sunye’s company, and the people who make it work is home. Haru can’t say no to this, and she’s tried.

Speaking of Sunye, Haru scans the crowd for the bride-to-be but her gaze lands at the side of the stage where she sees Jae and Nayeon talking to some pathetic looking guy who’s about to cry but is obviously keeping it all in. Badly, but his effort is valiant. He’s moved his attention to his guitar, but it’s obvious he’s all over the place.

He’s cute, though. In all the ways Jaebum is not. Where Jaebum is cold and sharp, this guy is warm and soft. As if to further demonstrate the striking contrast between them, they’re both wearing all-black but that’s where the similarities end. Jaebum is impeccable as always: black jeans, v-neck shirt, and jacket. He looks like he just stepped out of a magazine. Meanwhile this other guy is in faded black jeans with rips at the knees and a well-laundered black shirt (and Haru wonders if it’s as comfortable as it looks). If Guitar Guy pushed his hair back Haru just might ask him out herself.

“Yeah, well you’re not the only one busy with a love life. Haru happens to be dating someone too, isn’t that right?”

Haru is pulled back into the conversation like a deer caught in headlights. The words come out before she’s aware. It’s like she has no filter when she panics. “It’s nothing serious.”

“You are? It’s not?”

“I am offended you sound so surprised.” Vaguely, she’s aware of Jimin waving frantically at someone from across the room. _That’s right_ , Haru thinks. _You better go find witnesses or better yet a saviour because I’m about to pull all your hair off your head_. “I am dateable, you know. I was not put on this Earth just to clean up other people’s messes.”

“You know that’s not what I meant,” he counters. “I never said you’re undateable. I just meant as your best friend, I’m entitled to meet this guy and make sure he’s good for you.”

Haru stifles a scoff and a roll of her eyes. That’s rich, coming from him.

“Well, he’s right over there if you want.” Jimin gestures to the side of the stage. “Isn’t that convenient?”

Jaebum narrows his eyes. “You’re going out with Jae?”

Jimin snorts. Or maybe she laughs. It’s something in between. “Yeah, right. Try the other guy.”

At that precise moment, Guitar Guy turns to face her and Haru lifts a hand as if Jimin willed her to do it. He returns her wave with a confused furrow of his brow. Then Jae knocks him forward and Haru’s feet are moving before she can acknowledge the fact.

And this is how she finds herself saying something, never in a million years did she think she’d say out loud. “I’m going to kiss you. Right now. Just go with it.”

Guitar Guy answers by slipping his arm around her waist and pulling her flush against him before lowering his lips to hers.

Okay. This is unexpected. Also unexpected is the slowest, most insistent kiss Haru has had the pleasure of experiencing. Soft lips skim over hers before parting and descending into her mouth in a soft sigh like he’s got all the time in the world. Then he’s kissing her hard and firm, like all of a sudden the world is ending _now_ and Haru feels it _everywhere_. Heat surges where the rough pads of his fingertips connects with her jaw, and a ragged moan forces its way out of her mouth. Every move he makes is deliberate and potent, no touch of his lips is wasted figuring out where to go or what to do. Haru came into this fully intent on taking the lead but Guitar Guy has completely taken over, silently asserting his control.

It’s so wonderfully perfect Haru is absolutely undone.

No matter how good this is, however, air is a requirement for living and eventually they both come up to breathe. Haru takes a moment to gasp for breath, takes a moment to shake off the stars in her eyes, and takes a fistful of his shirt ready to get back in on that action. But chemistry has to wait because history has a bad habit of making comebacks when it’s not wanted.

From over Guitar Guy’s shoulder, Haru spies a wide-eyed Jae gesturing behind her, imagines Jimin is the doing the same thing based on the annoyed look on Guitar Guy’s face. Jae and Jimin get to them first, giggling uncontrollably and grinning maniacally. Also, everyone’s clapping and cheering.

“Sungjin, meet Haru,” Jimin says as Jae says, “Hey Monday, this is Bob.”

Haru looks at Sungjin, and he looks back at her, and it’s the last thing they both remember before they’re carted off to Sunye’s table with Jaebum and Nayeon across them.

“How do guys know each other?” Sunye gushes. She’s a beautiful blushing bride to be in a white party dress. Her groom-to-be sits next to her, babysitting a bottle of German beer.

 _Wonderful_ operates like a family business, and Sunye’s spreadsheet is like class reunion RSVP list made up of people Sunye’s met throughout her life. Haru’s met almost everyone: the party planners, the designers, the catering guys and girls, the flower people, the mobile bar and bartenders, and the band and DJ. It’s a mix and match affair at any given wedding. The question should have been rhetoric, but Haru’s never worked with Sungjin before. Else, she’d remember.

“They met at one of our gigs,” Jae answers.

At the same time, Jimin says, “I introduced them.”

It’s almost comical how, after a beat, they scramble to reiterate what the other’s just said. It’s a good thing everyone’s had something to drink at this point. Except maybe Ayeon whose eyes peer at them from over her glass. Haru avoids Ayeon’s gaze and fusses with the stem of her empty flute.

“Jimin took me to see one of their shows,” Haru supplies, reaching out for another pink bubbly. That’s not so much of a lie. Jimin’s been nagging her to see Jae’s band. Haru just couldn’t deal with the possibility of running into Jaebum before she’s ready. This is how she knows Jae. Through Jaebum. This is how she’s part of Wonderful at all. Jaebum had been her entry point to her permanent social circle and her career network. Cutting ties with him is just not possible.

“Then I asked Jae to introduce us,” Sungjin adds, ears burning neon pink. He’s making such an effort not to look at Nayeon, Haru feels sorry for him. There’s a story there she hasn’t uncovered yet, but it’s probably best if she doesn’t insert herself into that narrative. “That’s it. That’s all there is to it. End of story.”

But of course, saying _End of Story_ only gives your audience more fodder to ask increasingly invasive questions. Haru isn’t about to put it past any of them to go over their entire dating history like her life is on public record. Which it’s not. Otherwise, everyone in this room would know about Jaebum and would be giving her pitying looks and that’s the last thing she needs from any of them. Likewise, she gets the feeling Sungjin is on the same boat. Except everyone knows what happened to him. Poor guy.

“When was this?” Jaebum asks. He has his arm draped over the back of Nayeon’s seat and his fingers are playing with the ends of her hair. What Haru gleans from this is: the relationship is new, probably a month or two at most. It’s pathetic she knows all of Jaebum’s habits like this. So much brain space she could have used for literally anything else. She could have learned a new language or acquired a new hobby. But no. She just had to memorize every little detail of Jaebum’s life.

Haru leans into Sungjin’s arm, nudges him gently, and mentally rolls her eyes when his muscles tense up. “About three months ago?”

“Three months?” Jaebum shoots back, “How long have you been here?”

“Three months.”

Jaebum doesn’t say it out loud, but Haru hears it crystal clear. _You’ve been here three months and you didn’t even call?_ Out loud he says, “And now you’re Sungjin’s girlfriend? You. Someone’s girlfriend. Someone’s _something_.”

For the longest time, about pretty much all her life, Haru’s refused to be anyone’s anything out of principle. How could she? She’s been too busy pining after her best friend to notice anybody else. It took Jimin and Ayeon and a good figurative slap to the face to snap out of it. And okay, maybe it took a literal slap from Jimin to knock some sense into her. She’s fully awake now. Eyes wide open.

“Yeah,” Sungjin cuts in. He looks at Haru, tilts his head just right so he’s looking into her eyes, and shrugs. “That’s what you are.”

At that moment, Haru realizes one more truth: whatever it is that’s happened between Sungjin and Nayeon is what’s put this drowned kitty pathetic look on his face. This is where he Turns. This is the start of his descent into Grumpy Bitter Old Man and no one deserves that. Especially not brutally soft boys with guitars.

So what Haru does is she reaches up and caresses the side of his jaw with a knuckle. “That’s what I am. Look at that. I’m someone’s girlfriend.”

She returns to Jaebum with a challenging smirk on her face.

_Let the games begin._

 


	3. I still miss you...

Every time Nayeon crosses his peripheral vision, Sungjin feels a piece of his soul being siphoned away. When she tilts her head back and opens her dainty mouth, he can still hear her laugh inside his head. Used to be, he was the one making her laugh. Not anymore.  _ Bro, don’t do this to yourself, _ Jae told him.  _ My man, always keep a fragment of you all for yourself. Don’t give all your love away. _ Words of wisdom from Chicken Little, but is it really that surprising Sungjin didn’t listen the first time? When listening to Jae  _ always _ ends up with Sungjin in situations where his sanity and safety aren’t assured? Sungjin says as much. Out loud. So Jae can hear.

“When have I ever knowingly walked you into a situation like that?” an incredulous Jae asks.

“All the damn time,” Sungjin mutters under his breath.

Jae hears him, of course. “Then you should be used to it.”

Case in point:  _ right now _ .

They’ve moved on from Sunye’s table. Sungjin offered an apology for drawing attention away from the main couple, but Sunye waved it away and claimed it to be her wedding present. Now they scattered around the deck to mix and match and give others a chance to chat with the bride-to-be, but Sungjin is still stuck with The Most Confusing Woman to ever exist in his universe. This Haru. With the velvet eyes and red candy lips.

And he only has Jae to blame.

“You’re clearly each other’s salvation for the night,” Jae says, leaning his elbow against the deck railing and holding onto a flute of pink bubbly he has no intention of drinking. Jimin nods her agreement as Jae continues, “You’re welcome, by the way.”

For what? Sungjin doesn’t remember thanking him, but whatever. Once Jae has made up his mind, it’s near impossible to sway him. Dealing with Jae, with his band, has been a test of his patience. In school, Sungjin has always been just above the average student at most but he always persevered. It’s not in his nature to give up, and Life with Day6 is just another test he intends to ace. He’s not about to back out of this, whatever  _ this _ is, either.

Earlier when he’d been cornered into calling Haru his girlfriend in front of the entire Wonderful crew, Sungjin thought he’d seen a flash of helplessness in Haru’s eyes when she gazed up at him. Haru needed a hero and, helpless to his own kryptonite, he couldn’t help but come to her rescue. However, the sentiment is gone now and the expression on her face is replaced with bitterness. Like a toddler who’s just been forced to swallow a spoonful of bitter medicine. As if she’d rather be anywhere else but here with him. To be fair, she’s partly to blame. It was her who came up to him first, shameless and brash. If anyone’s to take responsibility for crossing the point of no return in this entire scenario it should be Haru. But no. She’s looking at him like he’s the one who crossed the Rubicon. That he pushed her over the threshold instead of the other way around.

Well, the feeling is mutual.

“Look,” Haru says, as if she just read his mind, “it’s obvious neither of us wants to do this. Or be here. I respect that. That earlier stunt—”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Sungjin cuts in, kindly of course. The Kiss...what in the world was he thinking? Before he knew it, his mouth had been on hers and she hadn’t changed her mind and pushed him away. Oh,  _ no _ . She pulled him closer (not nearly close enough in his opinion) and  _ kissed _ him back. Only when he pulled back to breathe did she protest, and so did he if he were being honest. Until he remembered where they were and who was watching.

_ Why _ is he still thinking about this? The gentlemanly thing to do is to apologize, but Sungjin feels no remorse for what he did. What he  _ does _ feel is the tingling on his lips, a reminder of what was there that isn’t anymore, and why isn’t he doing anything about it?

_ Because it would be impolite _ , he mentally growls at himself.

Wait. No.  _ Because he doesn’t want to. _

He barely knows this girl—not her last name, how she’s affiliated to Wonderful, how she knows anyone in this party and from where. It’s no exaggeration his girlfriend for the night is a complete stranger. And you don’t go about kissing complete strangers, no matter how tempting it is or how good the experience was. How good the experience can be if he can just test his theory one more time...

No. None of that.

The only logical explanation he has is that he is under stress. So when someone pretty comes along and offers a kiss, he doesn’t have the strength or the moral fortitude to say no. The same excuse can’t be used a second time.

“Sure,” she answers, nonchalantly. “As far as kisses go, that was pretty…eh,” she shrugs.

Never in his life has Sungjin felt so  _ offended _ , so intent on proving her wrong. But he catches that thought before his imagination takes it places it shouldn’t go to. “Agreed.”

Indignation flashes in her eyes. “Good. We agree on something. So what’s your story?”

Sungjin’s eyes bounce between Jimin and Jae, both listening in rapt attention. No point hiding it, or even sugarcoating the truth. Everyone knows anyway. What’s another person on the neverending list? “Nayeon and I broke up. It was mutual and amiable. She moved on. I moved on—”

“False,” Jae coughs.

“I  _ have _ moved on,” Sungjin stresses.

“Agree to disagree,” Jae says. He turns to Haru. “Now, you.”

Haru takes another sip of her pink drink. “I’ve known Jaebum forever, but he didn’t love me back. I got over it.”

“Right,” Jimin scoffs. “If we hadn’t saved both your sorry bumbums, imagine the mess you’d have made on the dancefloor.”

“It really wouldn’t have been a mess,” Haru says at the same time Sungjin says, “You’re the ones who made the mess.”

Jimin grinned. “If memory serves, it wasn’t me or Jae making a scene right where everyone can see.”

“You left me no choice,” Haru mutters under her breath.

“Jae pushed me,” Sungjin adds petulantly.

“Well, that’s that,” Jae concludes, raising his drink with a flourish. “At least this way you can pretend to be all lovey-dovey and avoid uncomfortable conversations. Public displays of intimacy makes other people uncomfortable. Have at it, then.”

“I don’t have to stay here,” Haru says. Then to Sungjin, she asks, “Do you?”

“No...that’s not...I want to be here. Don’t you?”

Sungjin isn’t so pathetic as to completely remove himself from the people he’s accommodated in his life. Though Sungjin is described as someone who is easy to be around and that he often creates a comfortable atmosphere, it only applies to strangers and casual acquaintances. His personal bubble is much smaller, dedicated, and closed-off to anyone he doesn’t feel safe with. The irony is that he’s willing to look like a fool to anyone who can keep their eyes open long enough to watch, but reveal his true nature? To fully be himself, raw and vulnerable? That’s a hard no. Not even Nayeon breached his walls, though he had let her in further than anyone else.

Haru regards him with a hard stare. “I could stay. But if you are too, then act like it. Go get yourself one of these pink drinks.”

He hesitates.

She takes a sip, assesses him from over the rim of her glass, before answering. “What, too pink for you Mr. Manly Man?”

Ignoring Jae and Jimin’s laughter, he responds “No, I don’t mind the pink, actually. It’s not that.”

“Then what is it? Intolerance? Allergies?”

“Designated driver,” he nearly sighs.

“Well that sucks. Poor you. More for me. Cheers.”

“I love this, really I do,” Jimin interrupts, “but if you’re staying maybe you should probably be establishing your backstory.”

Sungjin has yet to decide whether or not having Jimin around is a good thing. Often he feels bullied into doing things with the younger kid around. It’s like no one knows how to say no to her. No one dares say no to Jimin.

“Just in case someone asks again. You barely made it out of your first inquisition,” Jimin adds.

“Why would there even be a second?” Haru asks, aghast. “The first one was traumatic enough. They get it. We’re a thing. I think that’s enough information.”

Sungjin can’t agree more. He’s still having war flashbacks to all the questions he’d been unprepared to answer. All the faking he had to do in a span of fifteen minutes in the spotlight he never asked for.

“Hate to break it to you, but you better brace yourselves,” Jae cuts in, “because we’re about to jump right back into the Twilight Zone.”

Sungjin sucks in an uneven breath and plasters on his best smile. Even Nayeon will be fooled. Perhaps that’s the worst part of it. That Sungjin is capable of putting on a show to his friends. That even Nayeon might not know any better.

Jaebum and Nayeon join their little group, effortlessly integrating themselves into the semi-circle they formed around the deck’s ledge. The move puts Jimin between the two couples, and Sungjin marvels at the expression on her face as she struggles from barely holding in her laughter.

Too bad the situation isn’t funny from his perspective. Not really. Unless you find trainwrecks and casualties funny. Then you’re a monster. Which he’s not. Obviously.

“Can’t believe Sunye’s getting married in two more days,” says Nayeon. As far as small talk goes, the attempt is only marginally better than commenting on the weather.

Jae nods. “Hence, the party.”

“Figures. It’s the only way to get everyone here,” Jaebum adds with a sweep of his eyes around the roof deck.

For a split-second—Sungjin almost thinks he’s imagining it—Jaebum’s gaze singles out Haru. It’s gone before he can discern what Jaebum could be thinking, but it was there. Sungjin notes a hint of malcontent, figures it’s somehow directed at (or caused by) Haru, and  _ damn it _ there goes sympathy. Where there’s sympathy, there’s a misguided sense of overprotectiveness. And it’s for the wrong side of this bizarre love/hate square.

For the record, he didn’t choose which side to be on. Also on record: while he isn’t sure how he feels about his reluctant teammate, he isn’t about to throw her under the bus either—but only because he feels as sorry for her as he does for himself.

“Don’t make it sound like a bad thing,” Jimin replies with a smirk. “When was the last time we  _ all _ saw each other?”

“I don’t see you guys mingling,” Jaebum retorts.

The quip is good-natured, yet Sungjin can’t help but feel like it’s a stab at Haru. It’s completely irrational, and it’s exactly why Sungjin shoves the whole thing away. Just kicks it aside because he has no business involving himself in her affairs. Not as her fake-boyfriend, not as her anything. Best to keep his hands clean of her. As much as he can, anyway.

“This totally counts as mingling,” Jae says, “Call this the introvert’s circle.”

“In what world are you and Jimin and Sungjin introverts?” Nayeon laughs.

“I don’t know what I’m more appalled at,” Jae says, “the doubt at my character or that you’ve excluded Monday here as if she’s any better than any of us.”

“Oh, right!” Jimin exclaims. “Nayeon, you’ve never met Haru before, have you?”

“I think I’ve heard of her?” Nayeon says, “But only in passing. How long have you been working with Wonderful?”

“Uh,” Haru answers, “in an official capacity, this would be the first as the cake girl. But I’ve worked for one of Sunye’s contacts for a while.”

Until it happened to him, Sungjin didn’t think it was possible to not know everyone in Wonderful, but here they are. Nayeon is one of Sunye’s coordinators, and Sungjin is in their go-to band. That’s their shared history. How was it that his and Haru’s paths had never crossed until now? Surely, he’d remember if he’d met her before.

“That’s ‘cause she’s always in the kitchen,” Jaebum says, answering his unspoken question. “Then she was away, like, half a year? But yeah, you two haven’t worked a job together before, I think.”

“We haven’t,” Nayeon answers, “but I’ve heard so much of you from JB. And your cupcakes are divine.”

“Thank you, I think. As for this guy’s stories, I’ve given up hoping for the best. So whatever he said, I assure you, he’s either exaggerating or making himself look good.” Haru punctuates her response with a chuckle and another sip of her bubbly. She doesn’t sound bitter. Perhaps sardonic, but not angry. “It’s nice to meet you. Officially.”

On the surface, everything appeared normal. They were just friends catching up, laughing at jokes, and enjoying the night. Despite the twitchy stinging somewhere left-ish of his chest, Sungjin might believe it too. Even Haru—whatever it is that happened between her and Jaebum—seems to be taking the night in stride. But knowing Jae and Jimin the way he does, knowing they know something he doesn’t, and the way they’re exchanging uneasy (however devious) glances? Yeah. Situation normal: all messed up.

Silence fell over them like a wet blanket. Somewhere in the awkward seconds the atmosphere shifted from mildly uncomfortable to suffocatingly intolerable, Haru exchanges her empty flute for Jae’s lukewarm drink. Jimin is talking to Haru about something trivial, and Jaebum is saying something to Jinyoung who passed by behind him. Jae elbows him in the ribs, eyes darting at Haru.

_ Be a better boyfriend. _

Whether it’s Jae’s telepathic message or Sungjin’s own mind gone rogue, the voice is right. Even if it’s just for tonight. Even if it’s just a lie. Jae thinks it’s to get back at Nayeon, but for Sungjin it’s as simple as letting her know that he’ll be fine. That he’s okay. Nayeon doesn’t have to worry about him anymore.

He looks at Haru just as she looks up at him. A smile plays on her lips, and for a fleeting moment Sungjin allows himself to be carried away. “I love this song,” she mouths.

Wonpil has taken on DJ duties for the rest of the night, and overhead is a dance mix befitting a summer beach rave. The deck is hardly devoid of the undulating mass that is their friends attempting a moshpit. What the heck. It’s not like people aren’t expecting him to do something crazy.

“No,” she whispers wide-eyed and suddenly anxious, as if she’s read his mind. “I don’t dance.”

“Whatever you’re thinking, good luck with that,” Jaebum says, mouth in a lopsided grin, all smug and knowing. “I think by now you should know that you’re never going to get her to do what she’s made up her mind about never doing.”

“I know that face,” Nayeon groans, though it’s partly a defeated laugh. “Jae, stop him.”

That’s a challenge, if Sungjin’s ever heard one.

One Haru isn’t about to let pass either. Her hand comes up to him, cold delicate fingers wrapping gingerly around his strong forearm. That’s a surprise. Watching her all night, Haru has been nothing but strong-willed and all rough edges, but the way she’s holding on to him now made him think of her as fragile. Not fragile that she’s broken or that he can break her, but fragile in the sense she’ll fall into his arms at the slightest nudge.

Then she throws their companions a look from over her shoulder, and the tartness is back. “But they’re playing our song.”

Haru leads him to an empty spot under the paper lanterns, to a corner that, while still belongs to the main deck, offers them seclusion. Enough for both of them to release a sigh of mutual relief. She looks up at him again, brows askance. “You’re actually terrible at this, aren’t you.”

He scoffs as he slides an arm around her waist. Just this once he wants to do this right. Proper. When was the last time he danced with someone? He can’t even remember.  “Shut up and dance with me and try not to fall in love with me.”

She rolls her eyes, but a smile slips from her mouth. “Relax. You’re not even my type.”

“Yeah, well neither are you.” Nevermind that she feels good in his arms like this. Damn. Part of him knew she would. Of course. Having her so close now only serves to confirm suspicions he’s better off not having the answers to. Now he’s being reacquainted to an intimacy that’s startling yet reassuring. “Your ears are crooked and you’re a little too rough around the edges for me.”

“Well,” she says, sinking into the warmth he’s offering her. “Your nose is too big and you’re too vanilla for me anyway.”

“I am  _ not _ vanilla.”

Her hands press against his chest and slide upwards to clasp behind his neck. “You kind of are.”

“I’m like rocky road.”

“Dude. If rocky road is the wildest flavor you can think of, then congratulations you just created a new level beyond vanilla.”

He looks at her.  _ Really  _ looks at her. He sees hair the color of cotton candy and lips that taste as sweet.  _ Keep it together, Sungjin _ . The thought leaves him horrified. Thrilled? Horrified at being thrilled? He lowers his voice. “Friendly reminder that I kissed you first. Where’s the vanilla in that.”

“I believe  _ I _ kissed you first.”

“No, it was me.  _ You _ said you were going to kiss me.  _ I _ actually did.”

“Agree to disagree.” Her words come out as breaths as she slides a glance across the deck, and based on the expression on her face he decides he’d rather not know what she sees. It will likely hurt him, too.

Haru’s head falls on his chest. She inhales sharply, and releases a long breath spattered with whimpers and curses.

“Are you drunk right now?”

“No, not that I’m functionally aware of.”

He leans forward to check. “Are you sure?”

“I’m good. I’m the right kind of uninhibited. The kind that gets shit done because sober-me wouldn’t even touch that shit with a ten-foot pole. You know? This is me with a little liquid courage and stability.”

“Are you okay?”

“No. Okay. Maybe I’m a little tipsy. Otherwise I’d say I’m fine. I’d be lying, just so you know. Also, don’t be alarmed, but…”

“What is it?”

“I think I’m gonna freak out. And I don’t want to do that in front of everybody.”

“Okay. Where do you feel the safest?”

She raises her head, eyes searching his eyes. “What?”

In his most gentle voice, he says, “Haru, where do you feel the safest?”

 


	4. ...but I don't want you to know

She’s crying even before Sungjin can shut the passenger side door of his car. It’s pathetic, really. More so when he reaches from across the driver’s seat and buckles her in. Some part of Haru’s brain is logging in all the information her senses are unconsciously collecting and filing into permanent storage. Later on, she’ll remember the heat of his arms, the soft puffs of his breath, his long dark lashes, and the faint scent of summer on his skin. Even later still, she just might replay the moment in striking clarity and wonder if, given they’d only been a moment away, either of them were willing to acknowledge the zing of electricity at every accidental brush of fabric on fabric. For now, in the numbness of heartbreak revisited, she finds comfort in Sungjin’s solid presence—regardless if he’s an unwilling passenger in her pity train. To be fair, they are heading toward the same destination. Avoiding Jaebum and Nayeon isn’t originally in the itinerary, but such is life.

Sungjin pulls out a box of tissues from the glove compartment and hands it to her. “Do you want me to take you home?”

Haru decides to be embarrassed about this later on and dabs the corners of her eyes and wipes her nose. At the back of her mind, she hopes her mascara is as waterproof as the label promises. “Is it okay if we drive around for a while?”

The engine whirs into a steady hum and they pull out of the driveway. “Are you sure there isn’t anywhere I can take you?”

“Somewhere I feel safe?” Her first instinct should be of home, in her bed, under the safety of her blanket and surrounded by her too many pillows. Her second thought should be of the shop kitchen, except she’s still a confirmation email away from being an official hire and thus has no access after hours. Instead, she’s wracked with this feeling of restlessness. Like she’s a nocked arrow, pulled so far back waiting to be released. “You’re just trying to get rid of me, aren’t you? Now that I’ve performed my duties as your convenient scapegoat.”

Sungjin pushes his hair back with his fingers; an absent-minded gesture far more potent than Haru will ever let on. “If you don’t want me to leave, just say so. We can hang out somewhere.”

“I don’t—that’s not—how dare you!” Haru draws in a breath and all but snarls at Sungjin. “I’m having an ugly-cry moment here, if you haven’t noticed. The least you could be is be sympathetic.”

He has the audacity to chuckle under his breath. “I respect, and am sympathetic to, your ugly-crying. Carry on.”

“I think I will.” Though she’s hardly in the mood to cry now. The situation  _ is _ funny now that she’s viewing it from outside the scene of the crime. Distance does that and, with the roof deck reduced to blurry lights outside the window, Haru feels even more disconnected. “And don’t laugh at me.”

“I’m sorry,” he says, glancing at her with contrite eyes. “I didn’t mean to laugh.”

Now she feels guilty for making him feel bad. “I’m not actually upset,” she admits. “Just embarrassed, I guess. Believe me, I don’t make a habit of freaking out and crying in front of people I’ve just met.”

Neither does she make a habit of kissing perfect strangers just to spite the person who hurt her feelings, but she isn’t quite ready to have  _ that _ conversation yet. Frankly, it has more to do with the kiss than the pettiness that motivated it. It’s hardly her first, but it may as well have been. Mentally, she groans. How long has she been  _ unkissed _ that this one won’t leave her thoughts? The math comes up depressing—not in the past six months. Despite having been in love with Jaebum for just about the entirety of their friendship, she’s dated other guys. Though they never progressed to anything more than just that: dates. Had she any less self-respect, she would have forgiven Jaebum for his earlier quip at her relationship status, but she  _ promised _ herself she’d stop being such a doormat.

(Besides, Jaebum had every right to be upset at her, that much she admitted. It was rather inconsiderate of her to not have called, but, all the same, it’s not like he apologized to her yet. For, you know, breaking her heart. So no, she’s not about to defend him. Especially not in her mental conversations with herself.)

“I feel special.”

“Don’t push it,” she counters, barely holding back a smile. “You’re not special. Just convenient.”

“See, some people would be offended by that.”

“But not you.”

Not Sungjin whose hands have not left the ten and two o’clock position on the steering wheel. Sungjin, whose easy, contagious smile has not left his lips. “Nope. Not me.”

“Well, don’t take it as a compliment either.”

His brows turn into slants meeting between his eyes. “You realize we’re on the same boat here, right? Whatever insult you fire at me will only reflect back at you.”

“Now why’d you have to go ruin my fun?” That came out flirtier than she intended, which was not at all. If she doesn’t pull herself back now she’ll end up neck-deep in regret by sunrise.

“Don’t be selfish. You’re not the only one on this boat.”

Handsome, and kind, and with a sense of humor. The tug of her imagination is a visceral thing leading her to secret places at the back of her mind. Places she dare not allow herself to visit anymore. For as long as she can remember, it’s always been Jaebum who occupied those spaces in her mind. Thinking of what could have been hurt. Fantasies are dangerous things, indeed.

They slow down to pause at a red light.  _ So what do we do now? _ his gaze seems to ask. A spark of familiarity travels through her, a sense of affinity that runs deeper than a shared need to escape their respective problems. She blinks, as if she’s not sure what she’s looking at. Or for. It occurs to her just then that they left Sunye’s rehearsal dinner abruptly. Anyone who leaves in the middle of a party almost always has a good reason to do so. An emergency, perhaps to seek a moment of privacy. No doubt after the stunt they pulled earlier that evening, the general consensus will be along the lines of a romantic tryst. Or something.

_ No. No, don’t even go there. _

“Feeling better?” His voice is low, warm, and deeply intimate.

Suddenly, Haru is aware of how alone they are in such a small space. Of how the city lights slip through the tinted windows and bounce off his dark hair that’s probably too long for the style it should be but still somehow is just the right length. Now that she’s looking at him properly, it’s almost unfair how handsome Sungjin is. There’s a boyishness to his looks yet there’s a virility to his solid frame. He comes off unassuming, but she won’t put it past him to leave his better qualities unacknowledged. But it’s the subtle change in his eyes that shifts the softness his demeanor imparts to his appearance. Those eyes, darker like the night sky miles away from the city, land on her and rest for a few seconds.

_ Where do you feel safest? _

Such an odd question from such an odd man.

It takes her a moment—and the sounds of someone honking behind them—to realize she didn’t answer immediately. “Not freaking out anymore, if that’s what you mean.”

Sungjin averts his gaze as if he just realized he’s staring at her instead of keeping his eyes on the traffic light. Or maybe he too has come to the same conclusions she has. He clears his throat. “I’m hungry. Are you hungry?”

“Yeah, let’s get something to eat.”

“Anywhere you want to go?” he asks. “Any 24-hour favorite you go to when you want to eat your feelings?”

Everywhere reminds her of Jaebum, nowhere is safe. “Let’s go to your favorite?”

His fingers tighten around the wheel. “Or maybe we can go find a place we’ve both never been to before?”

“I like that idea better.”

Fifteen minutes and three separate lines of arguments later, they find themselves seated together at a corner booth mulling over the myriad choices of burgers on the menu. Maybe it’s the lighting, maybe it’s the change in venue, but something has changed between them. And the more Haru can’t place what it is, the more determined she is to figure it out.

“So…” she begins, casually bringing out her phone. She’s received a few messages (mostly from Jimin asking where she is and checking if she’s okay), and a few missed calls (also from Jimin).  _ Mostly _ Jimin. She doesn’t know what to do with those yet, so she ignores them for now. Same goes for Jaebum’s messages (all two of them) and the missed call.

“Looks like they noticed we disappeared,” Sungjin says after they’ve placed their orders.

Haru wonders if Nayeon is looking for him but doesn’t say it out loud. “It’s not like there’s anything left to do. And if they saw us leaving together, then you know…”

Leaving defeated the purpose of showing up to prove  _ nothing is wrong _ and  _ everything is okay _ , but what’s done is done. Better a disappearing act than a full-scale freakout because as it turns out she’s been lying to herself for the past six months. Seeing Jaebum again proved that. She missed him so much, but she can’t possibly let that show.

“I don’t think they even believed us.”

“Really?” she says, “you don’t think the kiss sold it?”

There she goes  _ not _ thinking about that kiss again.

He breaks into one of those disarming smiles. “Probably because no one wants to believe that someone like you would ever go out with someone like me.”

Jaebum was certainly vocal about his doubts. No one else said it out loud, but there had been no precedent to their relationship, though the majority of their friends seemed to accept it just fine. “And what kind of person would that be?”

“Don’t get me wrong—I’m quite the catch—but you did say I’m not your type.”

“I’m sure you rank in the top quartile,” she says, unironically, “but the situation is pretty intolerable. Not that pretend-dating you is the worst thing I can imagine.”

His face contorts into mock offense. “I treat my girlfriend right,” he says. “Even the pretend ones.”

An unsolicited smile settles on her face. There he goes again being so likable, it’s unsettling. Genuinely good men like Sungjin had no business being genuinely kind to girls like her. “That’s entirely besides the point now. We’re not trying to prove anything to anyone anymore.”

“Was that what we were doing? I thought we were re-enacting torture techniques under the guise of enhanced interrogation tactics.”

_ Stop being so charming. _ “To be fair, we didn’t crack until the last minute and even then they got nothing from us. Anyway, thanks for playing along.”

“Why are you being so nice and polite now?”

“I…You…Fine. Never mind.”

Sungjin’s laugh reminds her of falling face first into freshly laundered sheets over the most decadent bed imaginable. Though she really shouldn’t put the words Sungjin and bed in the same sentence. Not when she’s about to fake-break up with the guy.

She looks down at her burger and fries as it’s served. “So you and Nayeon.”

“Not much to tell that hasn’t been said,” he admits, sitting back against the red vinyl. “We broke up. That’s about it. It’s just been a while since I last saw her and I didn’t know she was dating JB. I was…surprised. My friends are under the assumption that I haven’t moved on. Then Jae pushed me. And then there you were.”

“And then there I was, indeed.”

For the next couple of minutes, they eat in comfortable silence. Now and then, Haru steals a glance at her companion, and every other time she catches Sungjin doing the same. And for the first time in a long while, she feels a  _ frisson  _ rush over her skin and a prickle in her throat. Like teenagers on their first date. The thought sends her choking on a mouthful of fries. Great. Now Sungjin is looking at her like the fool she’s made herself out to be.

He pushes her glass of soda closer to her. “Okay there?”

She waves a hand to indicate a  _ Yes, you don’t have to pat my back so gently like that. _ Then she swallows a large gulp of her drink to buy her time to calm down. He looks so open and uncomplicated, with his head tilted and his entire body at such a welcoming angle. For a mad moment, she considers telling him everything. The worst case is she’ll embarrass herself. But then she won’t have to see Sungjin again if she doesn’t want to. They’ve been orbiting each other for this long without meeting, they can coexist without having to interact ever again.

“You know, I’ve been in love with JB since the day we met.” Strange how easy it is for her to say this out loud when she’s spent the greater part of her friendship with Jaebum (and, naturally, with Jimin and Ayeon) denying exactly that.

He stays silent, so she keeps talking. “Somehow I convinced myself I’ll outgrow it. Get over it. I ended up falling even harder. But he never saw me as anything else but a friend. I kept telling myself maybe if I date someone, he’d realize he’s in love with me. But it didn’t work out like that. And because I’m pathetic, any time a guy would remotely show any interest in me I’d reject them. Or go out on one date with them then drop them. I mean, they would never have worked out anyway. The things they say about me behind my back…people are so awful.”

She looks up at him, at those eyes like an oncoming storm. She expects pity, or disgust, definitely some form of judgment,  _ anything _ . Why else would she have kept her feelings secret? Through time, she’s built up this reputation for being an ice-cold holier-than-thou queen. Being a bitch on purpose is hard work, Haru’s only reprieve is when no one is looking. Eventually people learn, know better and begin avoiding her. But Sungjin...he’s not looking at her like she’s poison.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that,” he says. He means it and she believes him. Even if he’s just saying it to be kind, though he doesn’t seem the type to say these things to be polite.

It’s too much. Years of pining, years of feeling ignored and unwanted, and making sure no one else but Jaebum could understand her, and suddenly someone else is looking at her like he’s really  _ seeing _ her.

_ Damn frissons _ .

“I…I don’t even know why I said all that.” For so long she lived with these thoughts and feelings lodged painfully in her throat. Too many times she’s made this speech in her head, but it might be the first time she’s convinced herself to say it out loud.

“Because you wanted to say it out loud and I’m conveniently seated next to you. I don’t know you and you don’t know me. I can’t judge you.” His voice was so soft, she strained to listen to his speak.

“Most people do.”

He smiles as if to say he’s not most people. As if Haru hasn’t already worked that out herself. “Did you know?”

About Jaebum and Nayeon. “No. Not until today. I…was away for about three months, then I came back three months ago and only told a few people about it. I guess I didn’t want to know. Not until I was sure I’d be ready for it. I wasn’t, turns out.”

“Me too.”

Two words. That’s all it takes and more words are spilling out of her mouth. “Then I saw you and I thought, what the hell. It’s not like I can ruin my reputation enough, and I wasn’t really thinking when I came up to you. I was just so angry and confused. I wanted to prove…I’m not exactly sure anymore. That I’m not some pathetic loser pining after someone who would never love me the same way?”

She never means to say this much, but she’ll be lying if she says it doesn’t feel like a weight is being lifted off her shoulders. She’s been carrying far too much, for herself, for Jaebum, for whatever mess she’s supposed to fix.

“I’m sorry,” she says when Sungjin doesn’t say anything for a while.

“I’m not.”

She was  _ wrong _ . She thought there would no more surprises tonight, but…Sungjin puts his hand over hers, so casually that she’s not even sure if he’s noticed he did it. Haru notices, of course. His guitar-calloused hand covers hers entirely, engulfing her fingers in warmth.

She looks up at him, thinking all the while about how those warnings about looking straight into the sun. “Helps that you’re cute.”

_ Foot. In. Mouth. _

His eyes may have been unreadable, but the quirk in his lips, very nearly a smug smirk, gives him away. He doesn’t pull back, instead he tightens his hold on her hand.

Well. If she’s going down for murder, she might as well throw in all her cards. “And a good kisser too. That was…surprising.”

His brow twitches. “ _ Surprising _ ?”

Experimentally, she turns her hand over and he’s curls his fingers into hers. “Unexpected.”

“ _ Unexpected _ ?” He’s nearly wheezing now.

She shouldn’t tease, not really. Not after…this. But… “You’re so vanilla.”

That lights a fire in his eyes and he scoffs, “ _ Vanilla _ ?”

“Vanilla.”  _ Kiss me _ , she dares.  _ Kiss me again _ .

Because nothing would come out of it, at least this is what Haru tries to convince herself. She doesn’t  _ like _ him. And he doesn’t like her, she’s certain of as much. They simply have tonight, and she knows he knows this too. So why not have a little fun? Why not show him a good time?

“You are impossible,” he whispers under his breath. “Just impossible.”

She’s been called worse things, impossible feels like a compliment. “Hey, do you mind very much being stuck with me for the rest of the night?”

God help her, she has no idea what she’s saying. Just that she doesn’t want to be alone. Not right now when she’s shaken to her core. As long as she doesn’t let it show just how much he affects her—she could do that.

Her free hand comes up and caresses the fringe of his hair between her fingers. Sungjin sighs, eyes fluttering close for a moment, and leans fractionally toward her.

“And have you insult me for most of it?”

“I’ll try to be nicer.”

“Don’t,” he says, more firmly this time. “You don’t have to pretend. It’s okay. I can handle it.”

“Such a manly man, you are.”

There’s nothing to distract her from the soft rise and fall of his chest as he breathes. Or the bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallows. It’s when he grins, slow and intentional, that Haru loses it. She straightens her back to sit taller, leveling her face with his.

Breathless, she asks, “You wanna do something crazy?”


	5. I pretend that I'm okay, I have to

Is it too late to repent?

“Scared?” Haru asks.

Sungjin levels her with a look. “I’m not scared.”

Her eyes flit up to him then back around to scan her immediate environment. She reminds him of those animal documentaries Jae watches when he’s bored out of his mind. “Nervous? Anxious? Apprehensive? Uneasy?  _ Anything _ ?”

Sungjin shakes his head at every suggestion that he might be anything but confident. The audacity of this girl to challenge him. It wasn’t enough that she had dragged him across town to an after-dark theme park of all places. He wasn’t even aware of the event until he was crossing the threshold of rainbow streamers festooned overhead. The location wasn’t the issue. Being here, being with her, was becoming less of an issue. What it is, is that it remains a wonder they even made it to the park when Haru was adamant at keeping their destination a secret and Sungjin was behind the wheel. It’s that he was forced to blindly trust her questionable navigation skills, and if that isn’t an adventure in itself then who knows what constituted a legitimate thrill these days.

Later Haru will tell him she did a quick internet search for something to do, and there it was. A theme park open after dark. For one night only. At least she will admit to parroting the directions given to her by a navigation app. This information will soothe his rising blood pressure, but only just. Diving headfirst into the Great Unknown isn’t one of his hobbies. He’s not afraid, but he would it be too much to ask to be prepared?

Uncharacteristically however, Sungjin will choose to view this night as a good thing instead of accepting his natural instinct to reject unplanned activities. Everything about this night—everything about Haru—is unplanned and unprecedented. Two words Sungjin has difficulty processing. It’s not that he’s uptight. It’s just that he prefers to have a plan and a spreadsheet, thank you very much.

Besides, scared isn’t really the word he’s looking for. Frustrated, perhaps. Annoyed, even. Irritated, sure. Vexed, yes. Definitely disoriented.

She does that to him. Throw him off center.

“Of this?” He scoffs. “Are you?”

The buggy train starts on the tracks, rattling uphill and giving Sungjin a panoramic view of the amusement park. As far as crazy goes, a roller coaster isn’t nearly as bad as being pushed into a pool of giant foam blocks or pressured into winning a stuffed animal from a claw crane machine, or even being dared to enter a Trot singing competition all in the span of 90 minutes. All of which he did in sterling expertise, just by the way. Given that, the next 90 seconds just might be the reprieve he needs to recalibrate himself.

Next to him, Haru has become quiet. Too quiet. Her eyes are glazed over. Her knuckles are white from holding on too tightly on the handrail. It clicks and, just as the car pulls up to the peak of the first slope, Sungjin takes her hand, gives it a reassuring squeeze, and they’re off. Haru doesn’t scream. She doesn’t make a sound. He’s convinced she isn’t even breathing as they hurtle down the steep tracks, sharp turns and twists along the inclined loops.

Her eyes are open, he sees as much. He sees her so well, he misses out on the dizzying whoosh of nightlights and cityscapes because he’s become too fascinated by this girl and her cotton candy colored hair floating in the wind. But he does feel the smile on his face, the surge of adrenaline kicking in, and something he can’t quite put a finger to. It’s both a moment of discovery and mystery when what you’ve found only brings more questions than it does answers.

The ride is over too soon, and he’s checking on her before his heart could make it back into his chest. He takes in the neon flush on her face, her windswept hair, and the look of triumph in her eyes. Somehow he feels like the real ride is just about to begin.

They exit down the platform. Neither of them acknowledges that they are still holding hands. To anyone else, they are just another couple spending the night out, blending in perfectly with all the others. He notices it now. Everyone else is on a date, genuine ones, not like the poor excuse of not-a-date as he currently is in.

“So when does the crazy begin, because it’s been pretty benign all night?” he asks. That’s an understatement. Nothing about the night has been sane. Or normal.

She looks up at him. “Were you really not scared? Not even nervous?”

Maybe a little, but Sungjin shakes his head. No need to say it out loud. His reputation is that of a fulcrum. Or something like a pillar. He keeps the world around him steady. Carefully, though he already knows the answer, he asks, “Were you?”

Haru sucks in a breath. Suddenly the girl who seemed larger than life is  _ just _ a girl. And he’s just a boy. “It wasn’t so bad,” she admits. “The first drop was the worst but…it wasn’t as bad as I made it seem in my head.”

Her laugh—it’s the shared adrenaline rush, it’s what making this moment seem like a  _ moment _ —is contagious.

Then she’s serious. “If I tell you, promise you won’t laugh? Or tease…or anything?”

“I promise.”

He feels her fingers twitch, realizes how delicate her hand is engulfed in his. Yet he won’t dare mistake her for anything but strong. She is defiant. Her appearance suggests as much. Haru is more like him than he’s willing to admit. Such a dangerous thought, that. Sungjin knows better and lets it go before instinct consumes him.

“I’m scared of heights.” Her voice is steady. She isn’t the type to squeak out a confession, even one as revealing as this.

He moves to stand in front of her, caresses the edge of her hand with his thumb. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know that.”

“You’re not laughing.”

“I just promised you I won’t. Besides, it’s not funny.”

She can’t meet his eyes any longer. “You promised, huh. You know, JB promised me, some time long ago, that he’d take me on a rollercoaster ride. To help me get over my fear. We never did get to go. But it’s not like that was his fault. Sometimes it was mine. Life happens all the time. The weird thing is every time I think about why we never did get to go on all the trips we planned in our heads, I can’t seem to think of a solid reason.”

“You don’t need him to do whatever you want.” That is, he isn’t saying he’s stepping up to the figurative plate. “You made it just fine without him.”

“I know that,” she answers, “But I wanted him to be part of that memory. You know that feeling, I’m sure.”

He does. “Look at it this way: now you get an upgrade. Aren’t you glad things happened the way they did?”

Not even the flickering lights and shadows can hide the smile on her face. Not when Sungjin is looking so closely for it. “I guess I was afraid of being alone,” she says.

“Everyone is, I think.”

“But you know, it’s not as bad as I thought it would be. Kinda like my first plane ride. I was terrified, but…”

Whatever it was that happened between her and Jaebum, it must have hurt her so much she got on a plane despite her fear. Hurt does that to people.  But as he’s learned, it’s also pain that breaks humans out of the walls that confine them. “I’m sorry, darling.”

In principle, he can still take it back. Make it a joke. Say something snarky to dampen the intent behind those words so carelessly voiced. But why again?

“Don’t feel sorry for me,” she says. Whatever the reason she’s willfully ignoring his little Freudian slip, whether it’s to save herself from embarrassment or to imply she’s not affected, Sungjin still finds it in himself to be offended. “It lead to one of the best experiences of my life.”

“Did it help?”

“Huh?”

“The distance. Did it help?’

“I thought it did. But as you witnessed tonight…” she shook the memory away. “Anyway, I figured I could sit there and feel sorry for myself or…”

“Or…?”

“Or I could go get this crazy idea off my list with some guy I met at this rehearsal dinner thing.” There’s a wry tone to her voice, one he’d been listening to all night long. This time is different. The good kind of different.

For a moment, her eyes are intent on him, intensely boring for answers. There’s no escaping her. But why would he want to?

An easy grin slips onto his face. “Lucky you, then. You got me.”

“Don’t flatter yourself.” There it is again, that flip switch. Haru presses forward, brushing past him and unlocking their fingers. “Like I said, you’re convenient.” She means to be dismissive, but his fingertips are still burning from where her touch lingered a little too long before completely falling from his grasp.

“And as I’ve said, being called convenient doesn’t offend me.” At least, not from her.

“It should. Do you know how many guys held that title before you?”

It’s rhetoric, he assumes. The question of what to do with her waits until she’s ready to open up to him once more. One thing he is sure now is that this girl is wound up so tight with pain and longing the slightest nudge of softness will undo her. Her undoing is not his intention. Not unless it comes on her own terms. And…well…only if she lets him in, only if she allows him to see her fall. He will catch her, naturally. Isn’t it in his nature to catch falling stars?

He doubts she intends to keep him longer than a night. In reality, once they leave this park and the morning comes all this will seem like a dream. One he will wake up from weak and confused like he’d spent the last week in a fever.

As they walk through the park, Haru talks about the guys she’s dated and all the ways she’s driven them to the edge of madness though she asserts it’s through no singular fault of her own. It’s a grocery list practiced in her head, one Sungjin suspects is a mask to make her seem like poison. Butterflies do it all the time. So brightly colored they warn the birds not to eat them. The color shouts,  _ I’ll make you sick _ . She’s doing it to him right now. Pushing him away because he’s getting warmer.

“How many guys have you dated?”

Haru stops walking to glare at him from over her shoulder. “Are you judging me right now?”

“…No.” But he thought her lonely. So lonely she’s forced herself to go out with other people in a misguided attempt to overcome a sadness that runs deeper than Sungjin can see. He understands as much. To feel so alone anyone would do.

She raised a brow. “You hesitated.”

“That’s not…You know what, that’s really none of my business.”

“It’s cool. I know I’m awful. Sometimes it feels like one day everyone just started saying so, and because I didn’t know what else to do I became exactly what they said I was. A terrible person.”

“Yeah, you are. You’re terrible.”

Her eyes widen at his reply and her lips fall agape, but her laugh is genuine. “Wow. No hesitation at all. You couldn’t even deny it first?”

_ You can’t fool me _ , he wants to say,  _ I see you _ .  _ I hear you _ . Instead he stares at the inky sky and breathes in the humid summer air. The words remain left unsaid, ringing in his ears.

“You’re the worst,” Sungjin says, stepping closer and invading her space. There’s anonymity in a crowd, a sense of isolation though so many people surround them. Everyone else all fades into a blur of black and white, and all Sungjin sees is a a rose-coloured hue.

What follows is an active, electric silence, the stillness between a song ending and the anticipation of the next one beginning. Haru falls into his chest shoulders first, pressing herself against him as she pushes him to a walk. It’s as close to an embrace as they’ll get, a split-second of blissful contact between two people too afraid to need someone again. He clenches his fists so tightly to keep himself from drawing her into his arms. Terrible, this impossible girl.

“What time is your big performance again?” she asks, switching back to a close, shielding herself from his view once more.

“In thirty minutes, more or less.” The Trot singing competition—if she meant to embarrass him, how gravely mistaken she’d been. Historically, he’s better known for the secondhand embarrassment he gives than any of his own. In any case, should he win, he gets a new rice cooker. They can dispute custody afterwards.

“Buy me cake.”

“What for?” Yet they’re moving toward the nearest stall that sells an assortment of confections in animal and flower motifs. “Aren’t you a baker? Don’t you get tired of sweets?”

“Don’t you get tired of singing?” Haru chooses a steamed lemon bun and Sungjin pays for it. “Think of it this way. You want to fill the world with silly love songs and I want to give the world diabetes.”

“It’s not always love songs…” After hearing their repertoire, one might even be lead to think the band has been living from heartbreak to heartbreak when the truth is they’ve been singing someone else’s story.

Haru breaks off a piece off the soft chiffon cake and raises it to his lips. “And I just want the people to have their cake and eat them.”

He jerks back slightly and shakes his head. “Sorry. I really don’t like being fed like a baby.” So many have tried, and not once has he given in. He’s not about to start now.

She nods and lowers her hand, gesturing for him to take it and feed himself instead.

“I don’t like sweets, either.”

With a roll of her eyes, Haru pops the piece into her mouth. Her tongue catches a stray crumb on her bottom lip. There lies the physical truth of desire. New and alarming, but there it is. Sungjin tries to be honest with himself, he has to be. Else he’d be making a fool of himself to himself, and that’s just unacceptable.

“I get it now,” she says, thoughtfully. “You don’t like displays of affection and you don’t like sweets. You’re a monster.”

Sungjin leans into her, his mouth ghosting the shell of her ear, and lets out a guttural sound from deep in his throat. Her eyes flutter close and a breath escapes her lips. He meant to tease her, but now he’s not sure what to do with himself.

Neither does she, it seems. Haru stuffs the rest of her cake into her mouth and chews with full concentration, not caring where her feet will take her. When she stops, it’s at an empty bench, just away from the crowd. And then he reaches out again, this time to wipe away yet another stray crumb from the corner of her mouth. It’s so casually intimate, setting his thumb on her lips as if her lips were his to touch. Haru’s breath catches.

“You really are the worst,” he whispers.

She lets out a sigh, lips trembling beneath his thumb. “What gave it away? Be specific because this entire night is just…I’ve been terrible to you, haven’t I?”

“Impossible girl,” he says, “It’s not in the way you think.”

“How am I supposed to think? Because you’re brutally soft and kind, and why do you have to be so attractive? It’s just unfair and—oh, god—shut up, Haru.”

“Actually, keep going.”

“Oh, you shut up.”

After all they’ve been through today, he should be feeling the exhaustion, physical and emotional, weighing down his bones but all he feels is a lightness of being. Sungjin tilts her head up, meets his eyes with hers. Then he leans closer still until he feels the warmth of her breath against his lips. Expectation thrums in the air, sounding much like a progression of chords he knows when he puts together will fit just right into a song.

He wonders how many times in one night is he allowed to kiss a perfect stranger.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asks softly.

“Like how?”

She bites into her bottom lip. “Like you want to kiss me.”

“Because I do.” It’s not even a secret he tries to hide. There’s nothing stopping him, nothing to say he can’t have her. That he shouldn’t try for her. It’s not as if he has to rewrite the stars just to be with her. All he needs is to decide. Say he’s found her. That he’s keeping her for his.

“Why aren’t you?”

He pulls his hands away, as if that will make a difference. As if losing their point of contact would make him want her any less. Temptation is always best conquered by avoidance. “It wouldn’t be right,” he says.

Not right now, not this very moment. Perhaps later, when they’re both less messed up. When the night isn’t leading them to decisions they might regret in the morning. He knows she wants him too, and there’s nothing tying her hands pulling her out of his reach. But what’s so simple in the moonlight by the morning never is.

She lays her hand on his chest, grabs a fistful of his shirt. “Oh, you.”

It’s impossible, this attraction between them. It’s terrible.

Haru raises herself on her tippy toes and touches the tip of her nose against his. “Is this okay?”

“You’re asking  _ me _ if this is okay?”

“Well, I wouldn’t want to kiss you against your will, now would I?”

“Oh, you.”

He makes an exhalation of surprise when she moves to close the distance between them, just as his arms close around her waist.

Naturally, it’s at that very moment that lightning strikes in the form of both their phones trilling and vibrating in their pockets.

“Don’t answer that,” Haru grunts. “Don’t you dare.”

“I wasn’t going to,” Sungjin replies through gritted teeth. He won’t even look at who’s calling. He is a peaceful man and won’t be incited to murder.

The ringing recedes, only to start all over again.

A frustrated groan leaves her mouth. “I’m just going to shut this thing off now…”

Reluctantly, Sungjin lets her go to do the same. So his bandmates had been calling him all night. He shouldn’t worry, right?

“Jae’s calling,” Haru says, showing him her screen as evidence. “Should I answer?”

“No.”

“It’s probably not an emergency?”

Sungjin sighs. “Put in on speaker.”

“This better be important,” Haru says to Jae.

“Is Sungjin with you?” Jae asks.

Sungjin and Haru exchange glances. “What is it?” he says, instantly regretting revealing his presence.

In the background, they hear a chorus of voices—the band, Jimin, and Ayeon. Then Jae says to someone, “What did I say? Told you they’re together. You owe me ten bucks.”

“Jae, what do you want?” Sungjin asks, ready to end the call.

“Oh yeah, bro. Remember that club we couldn’t get a gig for?”

There are too many, Sungjin doesn’t keep count anymore, but he makes a sound of agreement and signals  Jae to continue.

“They just called. Their closing act cancelled on them last minute and they said if we can make it there in like thirty minutes the set’s ours. Dude, this is our chance.”

“Go without me,” he says, calmer than he expects. Under normal circumstances, he’ll be running off to get them set up. But the situation is far from normal. He’s fine with that. “You’ll be okay without me.”

Probably not, but Sungjin can’t wrap his brain around it just yet.

“See, that would be an option as I don’t want to be the one to bother you when you’re in such an important moment in your life but the truck’s with you, thus the instruments are with you, genius. So unfortunately, we need you.”

Great. Just great.

“See you in thirty minutes,” Haru says, ending the call with Jae mid-sentence. “Let’s go?”

Sungjin exhales heavily. “I’m sorry.”

She laughs. “Oh, you owe me. Don’t think I won’t collect.”

He’s looking forward to it already.


	6. even if it hurts I smile

Haru hasn’t decided yet if Jae’s timing is the best or the worst, but one thing’s for sure: whatever else happens tonight, she’s got Jae to blame. Or Jimin to thank. It depends on the outcome.

Sungjin has one hand on the wheel and the other on the gearshift, singing softly to some love song the radio. It’s a pity she didn’t hear them sing earlier tonight, but she prefers having him sing to himself. She rather likes the idea that he can sing to himself and not mind her in the same breathing space. For once in her life she feels truly welcome. She can listen to him sing all day and all night long.

Once more, her gaze lands on his hand loosely draped over the gearshift. She’s not one for public physical displays of affection either but they are alone, aren’t they? The worst that can happen is he rejects her attempt to hold his hand. And if that happens, she can disappear with her shame never to be seen again. After all, that’s what she’s good at. Running away. Leaving. Disappearing.

Maybe this time she can be bad at something and stay. At least until the sun rises to break her bubble.

This is what he does to her.

He makes her want to stay long enough to hold his hand.

_ You’re the worst, _ she thinks. If she were brave enough, she might even tell him to his face. But isn’t that what she’s learned through all this? She’s never brave enough. So she keeps her hand tightly balled on her lap, choking down the feelings bubbling deep inside her. Feelings she thought she’ll never feel again. Feelings so intense they can’t be real, can they?

Resting her temple against the headrest, she imagines this must be what she’s been missing out on. For as far as she can remember, she’d held on to Jaebum so tightly, she had lost pieces of herself in the process. Navigating without him felt like going at it blind. But it’s just as Sungjin said, whatever she wants to do she’s free to do on her own.

Maybe here, in this car with a beautiful boy, is a good place to start.

“She said she didn’t love me anymore,” he says, pulling her out of her thoughts.

Deeper into the night, his accent seems thicker and his voice huskier. More than that, Haru recognizes that this isn’t a story routinely told. What he’s telling her now, it’s nothing like how she had told him about her dating misadventures. When she told him her story, it was meant to disgust him. Make him hate her. Instead he looked at her like he truly saw inside her and that he didn’t mind what he saw.

“She said she started hating herself because we were still together and I wasn’t doing anything wrong but she was falling out of love with me anyway,” he continues. “I couldn’t even do anything. I mean, what was I supposed to do? I could only let her go.”

It's an unstoppable feeling, and she reaches for his hand and their fingers knot together so naturally it feels like a dream. But he’s real, the warmth of his pulse and the roughness of his fingertips are proof that he’s real. “That’s not your fault. You know that’s not your fault, right?”

He inhales a shaky breath. “I couldn’t make her happy anymore. I kept thinking maybe I did something wrong, something so awful I wasn’t the guy she fell in love with anymore.”

“Some things just are. You can’t blame yourself for that.”

“I can’t blame her for not loving me the same way anymore either. That’s not her fault. It’s fine. I’m not angry about it. I think I should have been, at least at first. But I wasn’t. It never even occurred to me to hate her. But it hurt a lot. Eventually, I just accepted that some things just can’t be helped.”

Haru lifts their intertwined hands to her lips and kisses his knuckles. “I’m sorry, darling. Is there anything I can do?”

His laugh is clear and bright. “I’m fine now. Honestly, it feels so long ago. You don’t have to worry about me, darling.”

Yet he takes their hands to his eyes and wipes away a stray tear that dared appear. Inside, she’s trembling from a feeling there isn’t a name for. A perfect cake there is no recipe for. A taste there are no words for. For the first time, Haru feels her heart taking root in her chest. The way he called her darling, the sound of each letter pouring out like a song from his mouth, it drove her mad. When he’d done it earlier tonight, she’d ignored it. Easier to pretend it never happened than acknowledge the fact that she liked the endearment. She’s breaking into a million pieces in front of him when she’s supposed to be figuring out how to put him back together. She only has one night after all. The hours are counting down faster than she can keep up.

“Are you—”

“I’m not crying,” he interjects, “I’m really not. Who’s crying?”

Haru nods and sets their hands back on her lap.  _ He’s too good for you _ , whispers that traitorous voice in her head. Maybe the voice is right.

“See, I’ve only ever dated Nayeon.” It comes out almost a murmur, Haru suspects she isn’t meant to hear it at all, but he glances at her for a moment before setting his eyes back on the road. “I gave so much, when she left I didn’t even know who I was anymore. Losing her felt like losing my smile.”

“Is it the end of the world?”

He turns to her, surprised and confused. Maybe a little annoyed.

“I hate to break it to you, but you don’t lose your smile when someone leaves. You just…let yourself be sad for a while. Then you go find a new reason to smile. Or maybe something...or someone…brings your smile back to you. Or both. Both is good.”

“Both, huh?”

“Speaking from experience,” she adds with a tentative smile. “Also this guy I met told me to look at it like you’re getting to reinvent yourself or something. Like a chance to try everything for the first time again. Overwrite the sad memories with new, happier, ones. Do the things you want because you don’t need another person with you, not really. That way you get to define who you are as a person. Or something. At least that’s how I understand it.”

“Sounds like a cool guy.”

She makes a noise from behind her throat. “I don’t know about cool.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Pretty sure.”

They run out of road when Sungjin pulls into a narrow driveway behind a warehouse. She follows him out, watches him haul his guitars over each shoulder, wonders how she fits into this part of his life for the night. She’s about to say something snarky, something along the lines of “Is this the part where you murder me?” but her words are caught in her throat when Sungjin  _ looks _ at her.

Rock music fills the spaces between them and the edifice of the building, faint and muffled like it’s coming from somewhere else. The basement, probably. Surely, the thumping in her heart is a bass track and not actually her heartbeat. “I forgot something,” he mutters.

“You did?”

Sungjin backs her against the passenger side door, lifts both his hands and cages her head between his strong arms. He steps closer, hesitating long enough for Haru to wonder if he’s drawn an invisible line he’s promised himself not to cross. “Is this okay?”

She can barely breathe. “Very.”

“Good. Because I believe I owe you a kiss.”

“Going a little too slow here, if we’re being honest.”

The corner of his lips twitch into the sexiest smirk she’s ever seen. If he hadn’t anchored her against his truck she would have swooned. Isn’t she swooning as it is?

“We have time,” he mutters. “It’s not the end of the world.”

Not according to her watch. Whatever this is between them, it only works as long as she reminds herself she’s on a deadline. She wants him—more than she can have imagined just hours before. She wants him to kiss her again. She wants him to hold her in his arms and make her feel safe like he did on that roller coaster. She wants…She wants a great many things from him, none of which she can get before sunrise.

Jae’s voice breaks through the deafening silence. “Finally!”

Sungjin raises his face to the sky in anguish. Eyes closed, and quite possibly counting away the frustrated anger. As for Haru, she’s resigned herself to never getting that kiss.

Jae flits around them, followed by Brian and Wonpil and Dowoon. They gather by the trunk, take that which is theirs, and shuffle back through the club’s back entrance. The whole production took less than a minute, an assembly line choreographed by habit and necessity. Haru feels distinctly out of place.

“I’m sorry I hijacked your man,” she says to Jae’s lean back.

“For the record, I came willingly,” Sungjin cuts in. “Let’s go.”

“Guys, seriously,” Jae says, leading them both through the narrow passageway toward the stage. “I, for one, am a huge fan of what’s happening right now but you can make out later. We need to work hard to play hard. Shall we rock?”

Jimin and Ayeon keep her company while the band sets up on stage. Haru’s instinct is to deny everything before she’s backed into a confession. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like how?” Jimin asks, eyeing her knowingly. “How exactly am I looking at you?”

Ayeon stifles a giggle. “Don’t tease her. Let the awkward silence consume her and then she’ll break and tell all.”

“I hate you both.”

“I have a hard time believing that when you’re in such a good mood,” Jimin quips. “Come on, tell Dear Aunt Jamie where you ran off to with your Knight in Questionable Armor.”

“His armor is hardly questionable,” Haru mutters under her breath.

“What’s that?” Jimin cups her ear in effect. “Did I hear you say you find your gentleman caller attractive?”

That’s a trick question Haru isn’t about to walk into. “I’m not even going to dignify that with a response.”

They aren’t the only ones to come see the band play. Others from the party fill the club, but the only faces that matter to Haru are Jaebum’s and Nayeon’s. Reminders, yet again, that the night she’s having is a lie. One look at Jaebum and her head hurt thinking about the mess she got herself into. In theory, she can avoid them all if she really tries. Even Sungjin. Especially him. Sungjin doesn’t deserve this from her.

Her first mistake of the night was to assume that this would be just like any other cake tasting she’d been on—that is one of her tacky euphemisms for her many one-night-only dates. The credit, however, goes to Jimin after Ayeon accused Haru of reading people like she tasted cake. One night, one perfect bite to experience all the flavors one has to offer. But just one night isn’t enough to go through all of Sungjin’s layers. The real tragedy is that Haru knows it’s because she’ll never be satisfied with just one night.

This pretense—is it still pretending if she couldn’t keep her eyes away from Sungjin even after being taught not to look at the sun? How silly of her to have ever thought of him as pitiful when he burned brilliantly on stage like this. Even when he’s set against the backdrop of the universe he sees her. She feels the way his gaze touches her skin as if his hands had been on her body. How she knows this feeling when he’s never laid a finger beyond her one hand, she blames on her wicked imagination. When he smiles at her, what she sees is not pretense but an honest yearning in the way he sways toward her, in his hopeless, ragged, singing wrapping about her.

Her body feels on fire, a cold, shimmering, sparkling flame. She’s never been so aware of her own flesh. She’s never felt so  _ alive _ . How is she to convince herself that nothing ever happened between them? When the mere sight of him is sure to revive the memories waiting under the surface of her skin.

What stands between them now has become infinitely simple but entirely complicated all at the same time.

In the dim recesses of her awareness, Haru realizes that the stage isn’t the only point of interest in the room. Jimin and Ayeon are pointedly looking across the room and whispering to each other. Haru follows their gaze and it lands on Jaebum and Nayeon conspicuously  _ not _ getting along.

Haru does her best to ignore them. Jaebum is no longer any of her business. Nayeon, less so. It is no longer her responsibility to play mediator in her former best friend’s relationships. Whatever argument they’re having and why, Haru’s hands are clean of them.

But curiosity is a cruel thing, and within the context of the night and where they were, she can’t help but wonder. What if…?

Her eyes meet Jimin’s then Ayeon’s, and both her friends are silently pleading with her, asking her not to do whatever it is Haru is thinking of doing. To be fair, her ideas string along the thought of eavesdropping. A rather innocuous idea. Not at all something leading to a scene. Though, what is it they say about curiosity and the cat?

Jaebum is a hard habit to break. Just like that, Haru is falling back to her old self, consciously aware of what she’s doing but having no power to stop herself from making her way toward the couple. Vaguely, she’s aware of the music dying down and being replaced by an electronic dance mix. Unaware, that in a few moments more, everything is about to get worse.

By the end of DAY6’s set, Haru has maneuvered herself closer to Jaebum and Nayeon. Close enough to pick out keywords from their argument, but not close enough to put them together. With what little she’s gleaned, she’s assumed her suspicions are correct. It has to do with Sungjin. It has to do with her. Like a moth to the flame, she comes closer still knowing nothing good will come out of this.

What is she expecting anyway? That finally Jaebum will realize that he’s made a mistake? That Nayeon, too, has made a mistake? That finally, Jaebum’s eyes will fall on her and see her for what she truly is? That distance had, in fact, made a difference.

_ You need me in you life _ , often she teased him.  _ What would you do without me? _

From afar, Haru can only read his body language, but as close as she is now, even with the mosh pit between them she can see him clearly. Jaebum doesn’t look well. His jaw is set tight and his ears are burning. It set off all the alarms in her head.

Her best friend needs rescuing.

They’ve been friends for such a long time, she knows him well enough to know what to do to keep him calm. What would Nayeon know?

Haru lets out a great breath to clear her mind. That’s when Sungjin slides into her vision, solid and imposing. Something flares in his eyes—something dark and furious. “What are you doing?”

“JB needs me.” She knows it’s the wrong thing to say the moment the words leave her mouth even without Sungjin reacting to it.

“He doesn’t need you anymore,” he seethes. “He never did. Leave them alone. Let’s just go.”

Haru turns her nose up at him. “No.”

“Haru, please.”

All sense of invulnerability vanishes when Sungjin’s eyes are upon her. And when her name is on his lips like this, Haru fears the truth will come out before she can stop it.  “Please,” he begs, hands coming up to grip her arms. “Don’t do this to yourself.”

Haru can almost believe she’s worth more than what she’s thought all her life. She can almost believe that she stands a chance at happy ever after. If only the night isn’t a lie.


	7. as if nothing happened, as if I'm doing fine

Just as Sungjin believes he’s taken one step forward, just as he thinks he’s starting to get to know her, Haru takes two steps back to hide where he can’t reach her. She’s rebuilding the wall he just tore down and he can’t do anything about it. _I see you_ , he mentally utters yet again to himself. _I see you and I know what you’re doing._ _I know,_ he thinks, _because I give people something else to look at too. Just so they don’t see what I don’t want them to see._

“Don’t do this to yourself,” he pleads, “Haru, look at me.”

Impossible girl. She’s walking herself right into trouble and if she thinks Sungjin is going to sit there and watch her crash and burn then she can’t be any more wrong. As soon as he saw where she was headed, he ran all the way down from the stage to catch up to her. He didn’t go through tonight’s trouble to come out empty handed. He won’t suffer for nothing. Not after he’s sought her out on stage and sang out to her.

But then, it’s not really about him.

He feels her shivering beneath his hands, tramples the urge to shake sense into her then crush her against his chest to keep her there where he can keep her safe. He can’t explain these feelings any more than he can explain rocket science, but he’s certain given enough time and effort one day he just might. But even if he never understands what it is that’s gotten over him, he wagers he’ll live in peace. If only this girl would look at him.

“Look at me.”

_ Only me _ .

He wants to take her face, tilt her head up and focus her eyes at him, but he can’t force her. He won’t force her to do anything. What he wants from her, he refuses to take by force.

“You can stop now,” she says, and Sungjin has to lean closer to hear her over the loud music and voices in the room.

“What’s the point now, right?”

“What are you talking about?”

She’s avoiding his gaze still, giving him nothing more than a view of her profile; the stubborn set of her jaw, and her lips pressed tight. In his head, he knows he shouldn’t be thinking of her as  _ cute _ , but he can’t help it. She’s trying to push him away. Doesn’t she realize the more she runs, the more he’ll chase after her? How can she think he’ll let her go after the night she’s given him?

For the first time in a long while, Sungjin can  _ feel _ again.

“You don’t have to keep pretending,” she says. “It was a ridiculous idea from the start, it’s still a ridiculous idea now. We can stop now.”

“Stop what? Who’s pretending?”

She ducks her head. “You. This.”

“Darling, who’s pretending?”

She finally glances up at that, a flashing look of surprise that transforms into anger. Sungjin sighs. He’s been nothing but honest all night, and he has no doubts so has she. Right? At least he believes as much. When she openly cried in front of him, those were not false tears to gain his sympathy. When she admitted to her fears, when he glanced hope in her eyes, when she laughed at his jokes or just at something he’s done, wasn’t she being honest? The only person Haru is lying to is herself.

“Haru, darling.” He reaches up to gently frame her face with his hands. “My Haru.”

“You’re terrible,” she says, “What are you saying?” Is that a quiver on her lips? “I’m not your anything.”

Yes. Yes, it is a quiver on her lips.

Sungjin doesn’t know what his face is doing, but he’s somewhere between a grin and a smirk.

“You’re my girlfriend, didn’t you say so? You’re finally someone’s something. You’re not doing your part of the relationship and we can’t have that, can we?” He speaks as low as he can get away with, still in the middle of this crowd and this music. Vaguely, he’s aware of the people around them and that his friends can see. Let them see, then. Let the world see. He always did feel most comfortable in the middle of a raving mosh pit.

“What relationship? You never wanted to do this in the first place.”

He leans closer. “And yet I still kissed you first.”

“Debatable.”

“Need a reminder?”

Her lips fall agape but she catches herself and pulls her bottom lip under her teeth.

He runs the tip of his nose down her cheek. Is it considered cheating if he kisses her senseless to convince her to stay? Inside, he laughs. Look at him now, acting so out of character. This girl, she drives him crazy. Wanting to kiss her drives him mad. Wanting this much though he’s already had so much than what was proper in a night—he’s going crazy.

He’ll do whatever he must to make her stay. “Is that a yes?”

“No.”

Jae calls this a record scratch moment. Sungjin chokes on the words that won’t come out of his throat. Maybe because of the sputtering outraged laugh that wants to come out with it. He looks about, wondering if he hit his head earlier in the night and is just dreaming. A nightmare makes more sense than this. How can she act so cold when he’s chained to his place yearning like this?

“No,” she says again.

Sungjin drops his hands, gives her space.

“It wasn’t fun when we started it doesn’t feel good now. We can’t pretend anymore. Not like this. I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry for this time?” he asks, voice low. “Because you’ve done quite a few things tonight.”

She squeezes her eyes. “I shouldn’t have kissed you. Or asked you to stay with me.”

He can’t remember if she did. All he remembers is thinking he doesn’t want the night to end just yet. Wasn’t he complicit in this as well? Wasn’t it him to asked to take her away from the party? Thinking back to it now, he’s done everything to keep her close. He’s been denying knowledge why, but it’s clear as day to him now. “You think those are the worst of your crimes tonight?”

“I’m sorry I strung you along. You’re a good guy—“

“You what? You didn’t string me along. I came willingly. With you.”

“Because you felt sorry for me?”

Because he felt sorry for himself.

Because he didn’t want to be alone.

Because she asked him to.

Because when he looked into her eyes, he saw a potential for something more.

Because when she looked into his eyes, he could hear her say he’s enough.

And he believes her.

Because he doesn’t have to fake a smile around her.

“Is that why you’re with me now?” he asks. Somewhere deep inside, he knows the answer to this question; both the truth and the lie. He’s no fool to hope for the truth. He’s prepared, he thinks, to hear her say she doesn’t want him. For Haru to tell him that what they have is a dream but now it’s time to wake up. Tonight will be the last time they’ll see each other.

She shrugs. “You’re convenient, I told you already. I said so, didn’t I? I’m pathetic like that. And you were right there, looking just as pathetic as me so…why not?”

“Why are you lying?”

She scoffs. “You don’t know me well enough to even say that.”

That is true. He can feel his throat tightening with the prickly lumps forming from his chest. He laughs, bitterly. “Seriously, you are…something else.”

“That’s all you are. Convenient.”

“So now what? You’ll disappear from me? You’re good at that, aren’t you? You run away from whatever feelings you’re too afraid to face. You play the role of the girl pining after her best friend and doing whatever it takes to make sure he’s the only guy around you and where did that get you? Nowhere. Then you run away because you think distance helps? You’re too afraid to get close.”

“You have no right to speak that way about me.” Haru doesn’t scream. He can’t tell if she’s conscious of the people still oblivious to them. “You don’t know me.”

That’s the problem, isn’t it? Sungjin wants to know her. All of her. He’s become selfish and wants more than just one night. He wants tomorrow too. All the days he can get with her.

Sungjin steps back. He lets her go. Haru catches up to Jaebum as he’s leaving the club. That’s the last thing he sees before reuniting with his band. They don’t say a word outside the usual. But he knows they know. Jokes are not meant to make fun of him and they’re tiptoeing around him because they’ve seen him like this before. But why, though? He and Haru have just met. Why this sense of betrayal? Why does it hurt like it meant something?

He finds Nayeon waiting for him by the truck.

The sight used to take his breath away. He likened it to coming home to find someone waiting patiently for you. Now it feels like a burden. Still, Nayeon had been in his life far longer than they had been in a romantic relationship. They were friends? That’s what everyone is saying.

“Hi.” The greeting is meant to be encompassing, but she only looks at Sungjin.

The instruments are deposited in their proper configuration so that they all fit snugly in such a limited space. None of his band mates say anything, but their awkward glances at each other may as well be yelling. These guys are not known for their subtlety. Nayeon should be used to them by now. Yet that assurance is no comfort.

“What are you doing here?” Sungjin asks even before Jae is done stacking his guitar on top of Sungjin’s hardcase.

“Habit, I guess.” She’d wait for them by the truck after every club gig. Just like this. She’d stand there prettily with takeout coffee and snacks in her arms. She’d joke that she only brought enough for Sungjin, but she got snacks for everybody. She’s empty-handed now, though.

What’s he supposed to say?

“You know, I always did feel safest when I was with you. When you’re driving and I’m in the passenger seat, I always think nothing can go wrong. Maybe that’s why I’m here now. Because this is a safe space.”

The rest of the band makes up some excuse and finds a convenience store for drinks and some bread. Sungjin is left alone with his ex-girlfriend. For the first time, and ironically against his will, they are alone in the parking lot.

“We’ll take you home,” he says. It’s the only thing he can do.

“It’s fine. I can…I can find a way home on my own. I just…I wanted someone to talk to.”

He holds his tongue. She has so many friends. “Why’d you ask to see me at the party?” Inevitably, they would have seen each other. Nayeon didn’t have to seek him out.

“I was worried you wouldn’t come.” She looks down, wrings her hands together. “I thought you’d avoid me. I feel bad.”

Sungjin looks over her head, above the roof of the car and into the lot. “Why? You broke up with me.”

“I wanted to make sure you’re okay…I…heard you weren’t.”

“I’m okay now.”

“I can see that…JB didn’t believe it, though. He said something was fishy. He said a bunch of stuff really. About Haru. We had a fight because of you two.”

He shrugs. Does she expect him to apologize?

“Then I got upset and he got upset. They’re really close. I even thought they used to date.”

“They didn’t,” he answers. Haru deserves better.

“That does appear to be the general consensus.” She brushes off invisible dust on her jeans. “Not that I didn’t believe him! I did. And we’re fine, honestly. He just needs to vent. He needs space a lot. I’m not too worried. I guess…he was just so fixated on you two tonight. No one else knew you were dating.”

“Because it’s nobody else’s business.” He doesn’t mean to be cold. How is one supposed to act anyway? Warmly? Yes. Because how often can he see her like this? Sungjin smiles. “It’s a work in progress.”

“Haru seems nice,” Nayeon says, brightening up. “From what I’ve seen and heard of her. Sunye loves her cakes. Actually, so do I.”

“Haru…drives me crazy.”

“She sounds good for you.”

“She’s bad for my blood pressure.”

Her laugh is a twinkle in the sky—he used to say that about Nayeon. “I’m glad.”

“Let me go, Nayeon.”

She looks up at him, surprised.

“We were over a long time ago. I’m okay. You don’t have to worry about me anymore. If you’re happy with Jaebum, then be happy. Don’t feel guilty. Your happiness doesn’t deprive me of mine. You don’t have to check on me. I’m fine.”

And he realizes, as he says that, the words are true. He doesn’t want her back, but that doesn’t mean the memories they had together are bad. The memories are beautiful. What they had was beautiful. Past tense. It’s time to move forward.

“Thank you for saying that,” she whispers. “You didn’t have to.”

“Of course, I did. I know you. Let’s go find Jae and the others. I’m hungry.”

They seat themselves out on the curb just in front of the convenience store. Sungjin offers the car keys to Brian, but the bassist declines. According to Jae, there’s a lot to catch up on. It’s been a long night after all.

“Jimin says Haru is probably with JB,” Jae supplies. “They did leave together.”

Nayeon says nothing, just continues to poke her straw into her strawberry milk. Dowoon and Wonpil do the same thing. Brian is munching on a ham and cheese sandwich.

“It’s probably nothing,” Jae adds, “Like how this is nothing.”

Sungjin just shakes his head. There’s no point talking about it now. He doesn’t have to care. The smart thing to do is to just forget about Haru. Forget everything that happened tonight. They can always just say they broke up. Two negatives make a positive, so says that math rule.

It will be easy. Forget about those velvet eyes and her cherry lips. Forget the heat of her kiss and the warmth of her smile. Her hands are cold, and he thinks it’s because they haven’t been held in so long.

“Maybe you should go get her,” Jae suggests.

“Why would I do that?”

“Because, isn’t that what your heartsong is singing?”

“My what?” Sungjin is too sober to be having this conversation.

“Your heartsong,” Jae repeats patiently. “Isn’t your heart screaming out  _ Oh, you are my day _ ? Isn’t it? Because if it is, then you do just that. You sing out loud,  _ Oh, you are my day!” _

It’s too late in the evening for this. Or it’s too early in the morning. Sungjin isn’t sure anymore. “You realize I’ve only known her for…” He does the mental math. Seven hours. He’s known her for all of seven hours yet it feels like it’s been more than that. So much more and still not enough. “Not that long ago.”

“Time is a construct, man,” Jae replies. “Sometimes, you just know. The heart wants what it wants.”

Wonpil and Dowoon doze off and Brian chokes on his sandwich.

“Is that what your heart is saying?” Nayeon asks, on the verge of a smile.

Sungjin sighs. “Shut up, all of you. I’m trying to think of a plan.”


	8. because it's not like I can ask you to come back

The scene is familiar.

Jaebum is slumped over himself down on the curb and Haru sits next to him. She’s bought him a bottle of water, but he’s ignoring it in favor of the coffee she’s bought for herself. He doesn’t speak, neither does she. The last time they were together like this, she’d confessed she loved him. He didn’t say anything in return. Seconds turn into minutes.

“He’s really not your type,” Jaebum says. “How did that even happen?”

“Some things just do,” Haru answers, avoiding his knowing gaze. “It happened, and it’s happening. Get over it.”

What he doesn’t say out loud is that Haru isn’t Sungjin’s type. That the only thing soft and sweet about her are the cakes she makes for a living. For so long she’s lead herself to believe that only Jaebum could stand her, but Sungjin is right about her. About everything. He had less than one night and he cracked her open. No one’s ever gotten that far, but that’s because she never allowed herself to be so vulnerable. She let Sungjin in. Showed him a secret entrance through her walls built sky high.

And then what does she do? She runs. It’s all she knows how to do. She leaves without even looking back to see if anyone comes after her.

“He’s not even your type.”

“I love this, I really do,” Haru says, stealing back her coffee and taking a sip. It’s a lot more bitter than she remembers. “You’re suddenly so concerned after half a year of nothing.”

It’s more than that and Jaebum knows it. “Who’s fault was that?”

Haru scoffs. “Are you seriously blaming me?”

“You didn’t even tell me you were leaving. I had to find out from Jinyoung who said Jimin was organizing a going-away party for you.”

Haru turns away, sends off her bewildered laugh into the night. “You except me to keep in touch after…after  _ that _ ?”

“You vanished from my life. You just disappeared like a ghost. I never heard from you anymore. Not even once. What friend does that?”

Haru clenches her fists tight against her stomach. “I told you I was in love with you. You didn’t even say anything.”

Jaebum looks away this time, shuts his eyes and breathes in deep. “What was I supposed to say?”

“Literally anything.”

She’d waited for him to respond. It was too late to take back what she said, but the feelings had overflown and there was nothing she could have done to stop it. Her heart had ached for him, yearned for his eyes to see her, for his lips to tell her everything will be okay. But he never did. Instead he kept silent. Pretended she had said nothing at all. He drove her home, said goodnight, and left. Did he honestly expect her to act the same as usual the following morning?

“You could have told me you didn’t feel the same way. The truth would have been nice.”

Closure would have been nice. Had he let her down gently, perhaps they could still be friends now. Not whatever they are at this point. Seeing him again after all this time, it brought back the same pain she carried for him. Jaebum had been the personification of her silent heartbreak through the years. She had loved him so much she forgot how to love anyone else.

“If you had just told me you didn’t feel the same way, it wouldn’t be like this, I think.” She’d still have left. That much she’s certain of. But she wouldn’t have cut all ties with all of her friends.

“It’s so long ago now,” he mutters. “Do you…still…?”

She missed him, dearly. They used to speak atop each other, finishing each other’s sentences, piling thoughts and ideas until they reached full synchronization. He didn’t mind her grumpiness, and she knew just how to deal with his anger issues. They knew each other better than anyone, and yet there are still so many things that remain in the dark. More now that he’d drifted away from her.

“I don’t think we can be friends anymore,” Haru says. “At least not yet. I can’t do this. I’m sorry.”

“Even after all this time?”

She laughs, bitterly. “Especially after all this time. You don’t get to have it all, you know.”

He’s suffering too and she knows it. It wasn’t just her who lost a friend when they parted. But just this time she won’t carry that burden for him. Jaebum isn’t her problem anymore. He’ll deal with this his own way. She doesn’t have to hold his hand through the process. From now on, all Haru has to worry about is herself and her own healing. Her friendship with Jaebum has taken up such a big part of her life, now she’s left with such a big space to fill. A vast distance between herself and the people around her, people who could care for her, people she could care for in return.

Such a high price she paid, waiting for someone who could never love her the way she wanted him to.

“I’m sorry,” Jaebum says. Finally. He didn’t need to say the words out loud, Haru had forgiven him without him asking for it. 

“It’s okay,” she says.  _ It’s my fault I held on so long for nothing. _ Fear had held her in place. The pain she felt for Jaebum had become so familiar she treated it like home. She used the pain as a crutch. And to what end? “It’s not your fault you don’t love me.”

Just like that, a huge weight is lifted off her shoulders. Saying it out loud makes it all better. She doesn’t want him back, she knows as much. And now she’s letting him go for good.

He looks up. “Someone can and will love you. It’s just that you come with this lock but it can’t be opened with a key. It’s a puzzle but there’s no real solution to it. You’re like a fortress. With batteries the size of a small city. And there’s a moat. And the moat has piranhas and crocodiles and bloodthirsty sharks.”

“Yeah, I know. I bite, too. So you better send the warning to stay away from the heavy artillery.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“It’s fine. I know this. You of all people should understand. ‘Oh, Haru. You should loosen up. Why do you keep your true self hidden? You act too tough. It’s okay to be vulnerable’ Me? Tough? I wonder why that is? You know exactly why this is my life. I’m not pretending to be tough. I just really am difficult. There’s no secret there. I like to bake because it’s clinical. It’s exact. I don’t have to rely on feelings or attempt to evoke someone’s childhood memories from what I’m cooking. I do what I have to do, and if I do it right people will respond positively. If I could just add to myself some sugar, some butter, a pinch of salt, and some fruit maybe I’d stick myself into a preheated oven and see where that gets me.”

He chuckles softly to himself. “You like to bake because you like cake. Because your grandmother was a professional baker, too.”

“That’s not the point. The point is I get it, I’m too complicated to love.”

“You are difficult. You had to be. But someone might not think so. Someone who knows just how to undo you. But that someone isn’t me. I don’t know how to take you apart. And I wouldn’t know how to put you back together again.”

They say broken people are like glass. If you try to put them back together, you only end up hurting yourself in the process. No amount of sticky tape and paste can make a difference. Yet, someone just did and with only the slightest of nudges. She came apart and found herself still whole. What a mistake she’s made. Running? Really? From Sungjin?

“See, if you just had said that six months ago we would’ve been fine.” She’s on the verge of laughing and crying at the same time and she’s not sure how that could be.

“I didn’t find the words until now. I’m really sorry.”

“Stop apologizing, it’s not like you.”

“I’ve changed,” he says simply. “Like you did.”

What she gleans from that statement is this: Nayeon is good for him. Distance was good to him. And now they have to let each other go because there’s nothing more they can do for each other. Maybe someday they can be friends again. But not today.

She’s been through the fire once and, in her experience, as long as the right ingredients are put together nothing bad can come out of the oven. Trust the recipe, often she’s told. She can trust in herself.

“And Sungjin is totally my type,” she adds as she pulls herself to her feet. “Why do you think I dated guys the complete opposite of him?”

Thinking of him brings a warm feeling down her chest. Sungjin takes care of everybody, but who takes care of him? It’s too much of a thought to be considering on the night they just met but Haru tends to it like a flame in the coldest of winters.

She brings out her phone and sends a quick message to Jae. He replies within the minute.

 

The band, with Nayeon, are still camped out by the convenience store when Haru and Jaebum get there. Jae sees them first, waves sleepily at them before slapping Wonpil’s shoulder so the pianist can pass the message to Sungjin.

Sungjin looks up. Frowns.

Haru is still embarrassed, but remembers she’s not the same person who walked out on him earlier tonight. She’s been renewed. Refreshed. Sprinkled with confectioner’s sugar and candy hearts. But she doesn’t say anything to Sungjin just yet.

She goes to Nayeon first. In some alternate universe, she could hate her. But thinking about how much effort hate required, Haru thought less of the idea. Nayeon isn’t the enemy here. “I brought your boyfriend back.”

Nayeon smiles at her. “Thank you. You didn’t have to. He’d have found his way back on his own.”

She’s so nice, Haru wants to be best friends with her right now. Is that weird? She walks her to Jaebum. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

Where to even begin? “I just am.”

“You’re cute. I’m excited to work with you. I mean, if you’re okay that…” Nayeon glances back at Sungjin. “You know…”

“Oh, don’t worry about me.” It would have been inevitable anyway. Haru isn’t about to quit Wonderful. In fact, she intends to make her own mark in the business. She’s here to stay. “I’m not one of those conventional types. Besides, that’s his problem. Not mine.”

Nayeon giggles into her fist. “Let’s go out for coffee some time?”

“I actually think we have a meeting for that one account Sunye sent me the other night. So, sure.” They reach Jaebum, and Haru turns to Nayeon in full serious mode. “He’s your problem now. I am absolved.”

Nayeon nods solemnly, ignoring Jaebum’s light protests. “Try not to give Sungjin a heart attack. But if you do, he’ll probably forgive you. That’s how much he’s into you.”

_ He is? _

Haru nods, barely able to suppress the blip in her heartbeat. She waits until Nayeon and Jaebum have gone before turning back to the band. She sees Brian take Sungjin’s keys from him then driving away with the rest of them. Haru can hear Jae singing out loud, decides it’s for the better they’ve left with the truck.

Sungjin doesn’t speak at first, he just stands there under the haze of the convenience store lights. Haru is determined to make a point, lay out her defense like a recipe for perfection, but she just wants to run into his arms and hold him. Be the big spoon because Sungjin needs to be the little spoon sometimes. He probably won’t let her, but she’ll try.

“It’s been a strange night hasn’t it?” She tries to sound nonchalant. “We’ve spent the last couple of hours together in some weird whatever. Look, I know I’ve been difficult and you’re just being your usual Good Guy self. My point is, we really don’t know each other that well. Actually, not at all. We just met. Like literally a few hours ago. I don’t even know your last name—“

“It’s Park.”

“Oh.” Haru points at herself. “Jung.”

“I’m in a band. It’s called DAY6. I sing. And play guitar. And write songs. I’m not much into sweets and skinship but I assure you I’m not a monster. I’m also a genius dancing machine, despite what other people might tell you.”

“Hi, Sungjin,” she says, stepping closer to him. “Nice to meet you. I’m Haru. I bake. For a living. Like, cake, cupcakes, and all sorts of confections. I know I don’t look like it—what are bakers supposed to look like? Anyway, I’m pretty good at what I do. Really good, if we’re being honest here. People say I’m difficult. I probably am. Hope that’s cool.”

“You’re not difficult,” he says, “you’re just you. You run but you come back.”

“I need space sometimes. It’s just how I’m built.”

“This is duly noted.”

“I panicked.”

“I know. It’s okay. Next time don’t run off. If you’re going to freak out, just let me know. It’s okay. I can handle a lot.”

Haru doesn’t realize she’s laughing and moving closer to him until his hands anchor themselves on her arms. To keep her in place. Not to keep her from getting too close. There’s a difference. Now they’re looking at each other eye to eye and there’s forgiveness there. And understanding. And a mutual  _ something _ that has her heart beating in her chest. It’s saying  _ I’m here. You have a heart! Huzzah! You’re not broken! _

This feeling, the lurch of hope that also feels like dread, is not new. But neither is it unwelcome.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“I’m better than okay. I’m really good. Awesome. It’s so weird. What’s going on?”

He laughs. “Are you sure? What happened to you?”

“Oh, where do I even begin?”

Sungjin rubs her arms. “You’re shivering. Are you cold?”

My insides are always cold. I’m frigid. Maybe I should stick myself inside an oven. See if I come out sweet.”

“Some people aren’t so much into sweets.”

“That’s right. That is correct. Hey…”

“What?” he murmurs. He pushes a strand of her hair off her eyes, tucks it behind her ear.

“Are my ears really crooked?”

“No,” he says, rubbing the shell of her ear with his thumb. “I just said that because you said I’m not your type.”

She giggles. She’s so tired, she doesn’t even know what’s going on anymore. “So my ears are fine?”

“Your ears are lovely. And I’m really not vanilla.”

She sways forward, leaning into Sungjin. It’s not on accident. Everything about the night feels like on accident, but not this. “Ask me what my best cake is.”

“Haru,” he says into her hair. “What’s your best cake?”

“My best cake is also my favorite.  _ Vanilla _ .” She feels him smile into her temple. “Can I ask for a favor?”

“I don’t think we can catch up to the Trot singing competition. They must have closed up by now. We’ll have to do it some other time.”

“No…not that. But…it might be weird.”

“How weird?”

Haru looks up and rests her chin on his chest. “I could really use a hug right now.”

Sungjin wraps his arms around her, and she just fits like she belongs there. The exhaustion comes in a wave, and Haru falls into him, settles her bones into him. She falls apart in his arms in tears and hiccups, and he holds on to her fiercely. When she’s done crying, he wipes away her tears.

He doesn’t really know her, but it feels as if he’s reading her mind. But that’s not possible, so Haru takes comfort in the fact. Finds comfort that for the first time, the right feelings will fall into place somehow.

“I’ll walk you home,” he says.

Haru takes his hand, and he doesn’t let go.


	9. ...so until the end, I smile

The walk back is silent but not uncomfortable. For Sungjin, it’s the grey area between night and day when dawn is closing in and the previous day rolls into the next. He’s always been a morning person, but today there’s something mesmerizing about the grey and yellow light suffusing from the edges of the concrete jungle that is the city. One by one the streetlights go out and the commercial structures light up though they’re not quite open for business yet. No one is about, just the two of them. Adventurers wandering the hours made for rest.

But Sungjin doesn’t want rest. He wants more of this day, more of this Haru with the bright eyes and dazzling smile. “I’m still mad at you,” he says.

Not really, but he’s not the type to leave her unaccountable for the inconvenience she’s caused him. And if this keeps her by his side just a few more minutes, if he could make this last just a few more days, he might just change her mind about him.

He’s so sure she’s already made up her mind.  _ Don’t let your insecurity talk over your head _ , says a voice that suspiciously sounds a lot like Jae.  _ Since when are you insecure? _ That one sounds like Wonpil. No, he needs Brian in his head. He would have something smart to say. Dowoon…is too much of a wildcard, either profound or profoundly ridiculous with no in between.

Better yet, he should just listen to himself.

Haru leans into him, nuzzles her cheek into his bicep, curls her arms around his elbow. “I know. I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you.”

His mind plays through the previous night compiling everything he knows about this girl. He hasn’t gotten her figured out yet, there’s so much more to the dynamics of her sound than he can learn in one night. She’s more than just notes strung together, more than music played to time, it’s a feeling that if he were to put into words he’d fail because what if the word hasn’t been invented yet? What if the notes to her song haven’t been discovered yet?

As she leans into him, he catches the smell of her hair without the fog of smoke and alcohol and whatever the night’s heat wave brought about. She smells like cake and sugar and frosting, and this shouldn’t surprise him, she’s been baking in a kitchen all day. Everything else about her is designed to appear unpalatable, but right now he just wants to take a bite and hold on to her.

_ Not like that, _ he argues to himself.  _ Okay, maybe like that but not right now! _

He doesn’t know what’s going to happen to him and Haru, if they’ll be friends, or if they’ll be more. He knows he wants to take her to record stores and to music festivals at the beach, he wants to dance with her and sing into her ear. He wants movies and parks and coffee shops. Sungjin wants to wake up next to her in the dark, under the covers, his arms wrapped around her as he watches her dream.

He knows he doesn’t want this, whatever this is, to just be  _ one night _ .

With gentle nudges, Haru leads the way back to where she lives and Sungjin memorizes every turn at every corner. Just in case. Will she notice if he walks slower? If he drags his feet at every step just to slow down time and be with her just a few more moments?

Haru looks up at him and he looks at her, and at that moment everything opens up like the sky holding back rain for all of summer and now this is it’s release. But there is no rain, not really. It’s just another warm summer morning waiting to happen. But he’s feeling the downpour and he can’t stop it if he tried. How long has he held back on his own emotions?

She smiles. “What are you thinking?”

What a fool, he is. Suddenly he can’t say anything. He’s sang songs about it, heard people swear by it, but only now does he fully understand this thing called ‘love at first sight’. But that can’t be it?

They’re at a narrow alleyway, a blind spot turning toward the corner. He doesn’t know how much longer they have to walk or how much further Haru’s house is, but it can’t be far now. It’s a residential area, with houses both modern and traditional mixed together and minivans parked out on the sidewalk. She’s just staring at him, her smile turning into a curious ‘o’.

He’s going crazy. That’s the only logical thing there is.

“I’m thinking about…” Sungjin leans in and kisses her right there on the street.

Haru opens up to him, pressing close and tilting her head up. The kiss is soft and chaste, a touch of his lips on hers, but it feels more potent than their first. They’d been angry and confused then, both of them vulnerable and out to prove something. Now, it’s just Sungjin and it’s just Haru and this kiss feels like  _ Hi, Hello _ . It could be a start to something.

Haru pulls back to look at him and her eyes are laughing. She bites her lip, and it’s a question Sungjin knows the answer to. The line he drew between them, the line he promised not to cross, unravels. His hand curves around her waist and her arms circle his neck, and this time their bodies press tighter. He’s holding her so close he can’t breathe. He kisses her again and again and again and she laughs.

But it’s not funny because he might fall in love with her.

“Just one more thing,” she says, in between pecks on his lips.

“What is it?” He’s aware that anyone can come out and see them. The sun is about up, its yellow light flooding the spaces between the rooftops. The night is over. Sunrise has arrived to return dreamers to reality.

“You know, it would be so weird if, like, we show up at Sunye’s wedding like we didn’t just announce to the whole Wonderful crew that we’re a thing. I mean, we were lying but we did that and people believe it. To a degree. And what I’m saying is that, you know, we could probably keep up the charade. Just to stay consistent?”

Sungjin’s brows furrow. “You want to do what?”

She huffs, blows her fringe off her nose. “Okay. Listen up. I want to keep pretending you’re my boyfriend because I’d like to date you.”

He sputters out an answer. “Wh-what?”

“Oh, you’re just upset I said it first.” She pats his chest. “It’s okay. You’ll get used to it.”

“That’s not—you impossible girl.”

“Get used to being pursued,” she teases. “You’re gonna feel like a princess. I’ll be good to you.”

How could someone so small in his embrace feel so much larger than life? He squeezes her in his arms, lifts her from the concrete to press a soft kiss on her nose. “We’ll see about who gets pursued.”

“Oh, it’s on,” she says looking at him square in the eyes. All solemnly, she adds, “I’m not one to hold back.”

Neither is Sungjin. He pulls her back into him, laughs though a part of him tells him to stop and slow down because it’s all going too fast now but Jae did say time is a construct. He laughs anyway because it’s not like he can stop it from coming out. His words come out just the same, it’s not like he can choose to unsay them.

“Darling,” he whispers, setting her gently back on the ground. “You impossible, beautiful, girl, who’s pretending?”

 

* * *

 

Haru knows one thing for sure, and that’s even though the night is over, it’s never really over until they decide it is. Whatever  _ it _ may be. They continue walking hand in hand down the street, and she’s counting the steps until they reach her home. She lives with her grandmother, that’s something she’s never shared out loud to anyone else before. It’s exhilarating. And weird. But that’s fine.

She’s fine.

She’s more than fine.

Granted, she’s exhausted. She’s so tired to even deny how tired she is. She’s so tired, she doesn’t even attempt to lift her weight from Sungjin’s arm. He’s keeping her steady when he must be so tired too. She’s so tired and what’s left of her energy is using it up wanting to not be so tired.

“Can I ask for another favor?”

“You’re really pushing it, aren’t you?” Sungjin says. But it’s light and not annoyed. “What is it?”

“It’s…weird.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

“It’s just…okay. It’s okay if you don’t want to, but maybe just consider it.”

“Haru.” Now he was getting a bit annoyed. “What is it?”

“Will you sing for me?”

Without missing a beat, Sungjin breaks into a soft ballad, something about going to see the night sea together. Something about a beautiful light and the unknown scent of the ocean calling out to them both. His voice wraps around her like the ocean, she feels it everywhere, the coolness on her fevered skin and the way she can never get rid of sand once it gets into places. She loves that feeling. She loves the feeling of the sun on her face. She loves his voice too.

She’s falling for him and he has no idea.

Haru is falling, but it doesn’t feel like falling.

Can so much really happen in one night? Hate, lust, a potential for love, and truth? She remembers the cake recipe she’s been working on, thinks about how much care and effort goes into making it taste a lot like love. She works weddings because she likes it. Often she lies and says it’s one of the most profitable businesses to be in, that all she needs is one good cake to dress up accordingly. But in her heart she’s longing for her own happy ever after. She refuses to let herself expect more or even hope. Even she knows to take it one step at a time.

Follow the recipe. Trust in the fire. The secret ingredient? All the love in her heart.

She doesn’t want the song to end, doesn’t want to stop hearing Sungjin’s gentle voice pierce the veil of silence around them. She doesn’t want to stop eating her cake. Or maybe she shouldn’t think of people as cake. Or even think of the night as cake.

Better yet, maybe she could look forward to next time. Because there will be a next time. Maybe she can even convince Sungjin to try one of her masterpieces. A vanilla cake, light on the sweetness but heavy on the fluff and the warm and fuzzy feelings. Through the night, that’s all he’s given her—something to look forward to.  A next time. Not quite a promise, but  _ something _ .

“We’re almost there,” she says when Sungjin finishes his song.

“Oh.” He stops. “Should I sing another song?”

Her heart does that blip again. Maybe he’ll never run out of songs to sing? She lifts herself on her toes—she loves that she has to do that—and places a kiss on his cheek. “My house is right down the corner. Two houses. It’s…you’ll know it when you see it.”

“We can walk really slow until the song is over.”

So he sings and they buy more time. But the outline of her house is right there, and Sungjin laughs in the middle of a verse. They stop at her front porch. The scene is unlike anything she’s experience before.

“You live here?”

“With my grandmother.” The house is half modern architecture, all punk rock and sharp at the edges, and half traditional with low stonewalls and open spaces and an herb garden. “She’s probably already awake. So…don’t make a scene.”

“Who’s making a scene?” He doesn’t ask about her parents. Yet. There will be time to talk about that in the future.

“She’ll see you and think all sorts of things.”

“Is she very protective?”

“More like she’ll invite you in for breakfast and fall in love with you and never make you leave.”

He nods. “We can delay that for later, maybe.”

She’s buying more time and it’s so obvious. They’ve gone the night without sleeping, and for her it’s been more than 24 hours she’s been awake. She needs to let him go. Let him rest. But it’s so hard to let this feeling go.

Then again, she isn’t joking about her grandmother. Jae and Jimin visit often, and her grandmother feeds them like her own. In exchange, her own grandmother’s been conspiring with her friends to find her a boyfriend—

Haru chokes on her tongue.

“You okay?”

“Yeah. I’m perfectly peachy.”

“Before I let you go inside, there’s one more thing.” He’s so nervous, it’s endearing. He pulls out his phone from his pocket, immediately swipes the displayed message away, and hands it to her. “I don’t have your number.”

“That would be a problem.”

She hands him her phone and they exchange information. It hits her once again that they’ve only met hours ago. They’ve gotten so close, really  _ close _ , she keeps forgetting the facts. She’s stuck deciding on what to input her name as, decides to leave that up to Sungjin. A message flashes on his notifications. From Jae. It states, simply:

“We have photographic and video evidence.”

Haru doesn’t even to wonder what about. It’s fine. She’s fine. She’s too exhausted to care right now.

Sungjin slides her phone back into her hands. The name on her phone: Park Sungjin. That’s is. It’s official. She has his number and he has hers. She can call him anytime she wants, message him about her day, and send him pictures of her cupcakes.

“So…”

“So. Yeah.” Haru glances through the gate, spies no movement from inside, but it won’t be long until her grandmother starts her morning routine. Then she’ll see them there and be excited when Haru doesn’t even know what  _ this _ is yet. “I’ll see you at Sunye’s wedding. I’ll be busy, probably. But I’ll see you?”

“You will. I’ll be there. It’s okay. We’re both going to be busy. We’ll find time. Maybe…I can see you tonight?”

“Sure. You can drop by the kitchen? Maybe?”

“I can do that. Just tell me when and where.”

And that’s it. That’s all she has left to say that doesn’t sound like she’s pulling at her last strings to stop the world from turning. Sungjin looks at her with so much warmth, she’s tempted to break it off now because does he really know what he’s getting himself into? Does she?

This is it. This is not where it ends, but where it begins. With sunrise. With morning voices singing about the ocean. With thoughts of unsweetened cake made with tenderness. It’s jumping into the unknown. It’s climbing up the steep slope of a rollercoaster and holding your breath until it’s over. It’s the middle of a mosh pit. It’s a rush like no other. It’s terrifying.

“Good night?” She’s trying to be cool and failing. The nerves are taking all the words away.

“Good morning?”

Just maybe, they’d be on to something. And something is better than nothing.

She takes a deep breath. Takes a leap. 

 


End file.
